


Welcome to the Meteor Universe, Nookstain

by Callmesalticidae, DaneelsSoul, shadow_wasserson



Series: Building From Scratch [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alchemy, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Can Town, Coffee, Drunk Rose, F/F, F/M, Hostage Situation, Mutiny, Prophetic Visions, Sober Gamzee Makara, Sopor Slime, Terezi shipping black DaveKat, Threats, Traps, Weird Technology, adventures in cross-planetary cuisine, awesome ideas, beat poetry, booze, cat soup, five second rule, gamzee being scary, gamzee's paint, gamzee's religion, hangovers, monster meat, monster reproduction, nobody listens to Karkat, pity, pity vs love, please stop yelling, problems with troll/human relationships, rapping, the appeal of the emptiness of space in comparison to this shit show across the table, violent rapping, want some hamburger with that ketchup?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-07-25 13:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7534513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callmesalticidae/pseuds/Callmesalticidae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaneelsSoul/pseuds/DaneelsSoul, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_wasserson/pseuds/shadow_wasserson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CG: IN WHICH OUR PROTAGONIST, INSPIRED BY DREAM BUBBLE REVELATION TO CREATE A NEW UNIVERSE OUT OF THE SCRAPS HE WAS GIVEN, MUST CONVINCE HIS PAN-DEAD CREW TO LEND THEIR EFFORTS IN PLANNING AND PREPARING FOR THE CREATION OF NEW LIFE, AN EFFORT THAT GOES REASONABLY SUCCESSFULLY UNTIL THE UNEXPECTED RETURN OF THE PROTAGONIST’S–</p><p>TG: hold it right there karkat theres no fucking way that youre the protagonist of this story i mean terezis got like at least 50% more screen time than you do</p><p>CG: ARE YOU DENSE, STRIDER? SHE MIGHT HAVE MORE ACTION SCENES, BUT MY GOALS ARE THE ONES THAT DRIVE THE PLOT.</p><p>TG: heh not for fucking long they dont</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cat Soup is Not a Beverage

_February 15th, Year 1 of Sweep 2_

You are now Terezi Pyrope. Specifically, you are Terezi Pyrope Eating A Hamburger. Not, it should be clarified, a piece of grubloaf in a fungal bun, but an actual hamburger. Rose had the idea of holding a cultural exchange program. You aren’t sure what her intention was, but you are enjoying the consequences. The incredibly, vividly, deliciously red consequences.

Dave enters the meal block, still somewhat groggy after the previous night’s activities. He nods at you on his way over to the coffee machine.

“Sup?”

“The court forgives you for your recent poisoning attempt, as a thanks for this delicious…” You lick a glob of delectable red condiment as it drips off the side of your hamburger, and then remember what it was called. “Cat soup. We did not use soup as a condiment on Alternia. It is very good, and you are exonerated,” you reiterate.

Dave grabs a cup of coffee. “Y’know it’s not really made of…” He shakes his head. “Never mind. It’s way funnier this way.”

“It is not unlike grubsauce,” you continue. “But more red.”

He takes a long sip. “Oh hey if you like that bit so much I know an amazing Earth food that we need to figure out how to alchemize for you. It’s called food dye. Also, you might want to watch it, I think you may have some hamburger in your catsup there.” Dave takes another drink. He’s starting to sound more awake.

“I know, but Rose said that it was mandatory.”

“Yeah, I suppose McDonald’s might try to sue you if you tried to eat too many of their free catsup packets without also using the mandatory delivery system.”

You take another bite of hamburger-laced red cat soup. “The court demands to hear more about this ‘food die’. How many much perish to manufacture it?”

“Not sure. Never been down to the great Red 40 mines myself, but you hear stories, y’know.”

Kanaya glides in. “Good morning, you two. I hope that this waking cycle finds you well.”

“I’ll let you know when I wake up,” Dave responds.

Kanaya sits down next to your right.

“Terezi, what are you eating? That looks new.”

“A hamburger. With much deliciously red cat soup.”

His coffee finished, Dave wanders back off in the direction of the temperature-controlled hunger trunk.

“How does it hamburg?” Kanaya asks.

“I do not know. You must interrogate Rose.”

“Probably the great mystery of the food, how it turns into a German city when nobody’s looking.” Dave closes the trunk door and heads to a nutrition cabinet, from which he withdraws a Squiddles Marshmallow Fluff cereal box. Apparently the offerings of the hunger trunk were deemed unworthy.

You sniff your sandwich, then turn to your matesprit. “The court accuses you of Dave-ing.”

“Naw, it’s still too early to get any of my ill raps on.” He sits down across the table from you and starts eating out of the box.

Rose is the next to arrive. She enters the room carefully, with her hand shielding her eyes from the lights above. “Dave,” she says, pausing long enough for the name to be a sentence all on its own. “You wouldn’t happen to have another pair of those tenebrous eye pieces, would you? I am finding the world to be several shades brighter than I would appreciate.”

“Sorry sis but the ishades are a rad technicolor multimedia experience. I doubt being trapped in a lightshow would be good for your hangover.”

“And I suppose that this advanced computing technology must therefore lack something so simple as a deactivation mechanism? A switch or a button perhaps?” Rose manages to pick her way to the table and sits next to Kanaya. “Unless you know of a way to make the world dimmer and muffled, Kanaya, your company will have to do.”

“Unfortunately, most of my skills tend toward the opposite. Would you like me to get you anything?”

Rose sighs. “I suppose that coffee is the traditional cure for my present condition. Well, either that or more alcohol.”

Kanaya gets up, presumably to fetch some human coffee for Rose.

“I know a way to make the world dimmer,” you tell Rose.

She rubs at her temples. “Does your solution perchance lead to permanent loss of ocular function, Terezi?”

“Possibly!” You cackle. Rose winces in response to the loud noise.

Kanaya returns. “Here Rose, I got you some—”

Karkat chooses that moment to burst in. “Okay, listen up you nooksniffers! Tune in your auricular sponge clots because this is motherfucking important!”

Rose groans and covers her ears.

“Karkat, it would be most considerate of you to lower your volume at this hour,” Kanaya says, frowning.

“Is that even a thing for Karkat?” Dave drawls. “I mean it’s like his volume knob goes to 11 and then gets stuck there and then somebody glued it at the top setting and then installed amplifiers powered by an internal backup generator.”

“No, I mean it! This is like an epiphany. This is the most brilliant and unbelievable thing you’ll ever hear.”

Dave just keeps going. “I mean I think they must have used Karkat as a tornado siren back home. It was all ‘Hey listen up fuckheads there’s this big Earth wind-disturbance going on, you had better get yourselves into your human-basements before it rips your walls off!’”

“What the fuck are you going on about Strider?”

“Just wondering if you had a stint as an emergency warning system back home. That voice is eerily similar to a blaring siren.”

You scowl. “Sometimes you make me wish that I were deaf as well as blind.”

̶ ===> TEREZI: Be the other girl who wishes that she were deaf.

You are now Rose Lalonde, and you are not having a good time with all of the talking that is going on. You had hoped to have a nice quiet breakfast to regain your composure, but all the noise has caused a magnitude 7 earthquake to erupt between your aching temples.

“And if not, maybe you should consider it,” Dave continues. Something about a fire alarm? You’re not paying that much attention. “I mean I don’t know what kinda benefits and shit that type of work comes with but you seem eminently qualified for it.

“Oh my god I can’t believe I have to share this meteor with you shitheads!”

“See? That’s perfect, that’s your ‘everybody time to evacuate’ signal. Just be careful, don’t want to wake up all the ghosts dreaming their little ghost dreams.”

“ _Go eat a loadgaper Strider, I’m trying to make an announcement!_ ”

You wince as you quietly upgrade the disturbance to a magnitude 8.

“Oh, you had an announcement to make? Why didn’t you just say so?”

“Fine. Forget it,” Karkat snarls. “My idea is wasted on you. Go drink coffee and rap some more. The adults need to talk.”

Dave grins and stuffs a handful of Squiddles-puffs into his mouth.

“And stop smiling! This is serious!”

“Oh sorry, excuse me, I guess I didn’t pack proper attire for frown town. Musta left all my good scowls back at home.”

“I could potentially create some proper attire if a change in wardrobe is needed,” Kanaya interjects. You hope that she will be able to calm the two of them. You’re in no state to do it and Terezi… well, Terezi is pouring catsup into a bowl and eating it with a spoon. You don’t think that she’s really paying attention.

Though, It doesn’t look like Dave is paying much more attention. “Guess we’ll have to go all the way back and try this again some other night,” he continues. “Unless we bribe the bouncer to let us in anyway. Go backstage with the serious business club wearing all these shitty smiles. Not sure how well my reputation would weather the scandal though.”

“If I cared about what idiots said, I’m sure I would be irritated at these constant interruptions. But I am taking the high road, and ignoring the squawking of assholes who don’t know what they’re talking about. Because I have an important fucking announcement, as leader, regarding the motherfucking future of our expedition.”

“If you have something to say,” you finally speak up, “can you get it over with so that I can resume my efforts to prevent my cranium from exploding on me.”

“I have to clean this week,” Terezi says as she turns in your direction. The concern is obvious on her face. “Please do not make a mess.”

“Yes, I suppose I should be more thoughtful and ensure that my detonation take place in a controlled environment so that my grizzly death doesn’t cause anyone else the mild inconvenience of needing to clean up.”

“Outside, if you could,” she says.

“ _Terezi are you even listening!?_ ” Karkat howls.

“Maybe.”

“Actually,” you say, “the quiet emptiness of space is starting to sound more appealing by the minute.”

“Oh my god you don’t even care,” Karkat moans. Moan-shouts? Is that even possible? “You would be perfectly happy drifting through the Furthest Ring with your thumbs up your collective waste chutes. Forever.”

“Calming down yet?”

“How can I be calm!?!? This is fucking groundbreaking!”

“Then say it,” Terezi responds.

“My thinkpan is being proverbially blown and no one even—look, we were going to make a universe and we all know how that went. Well guess what fuckers, we have a second chance. That’s right. You, me, and all of us are going to make a motherfucking universe. We’re going to do it right this time. We have everything we need, right here. No bullshit with frogs or forges or anything.”

You begin to reply to him. “Karkat, I don’t think that the beta version of the frog is—“

“No, I’m not _done_ yet. I’m not talking about timey-spacey sgrub fuckery. I’m not talking about the game at all. Fuck the game.” He pauses to catch his breath. It is a beautiful moment of silence, but in this cruel world it lasts only a second.

“We have a meteor, and we have all the shit we need to turn it into its own little universe. Use your thought-curds for a split nano-fucksecond, and you’ll see that we have food and space and people, and shit, there is no reason to give up just because it’s small. We’ll start small. Who the fuck says we have to start out with a universe with a fuckton of space? No. One. _Welcome to the Meteor Universe, nookstain._ We’re in this for the long haul, and we’re going to make this happen.”

“We will need laws.” Terezi, of course.

“Sooo, uh, life gives you lemons, make a shitty little universe out of them?”

“Yes. A shitty lemon universe,” Karkat responds. He seems somewhat more happy that people are paying attention now.

“Odd, though, I’d really expect you to be a little more sour about the whole concept.”

“Shut up Strider, this is supposed to be blowing your thinkpan!”

“Oh yup there’s a whole big bang going on in here, throwing up stars and galaxies and all that shit. Could probably use some of those in this project huh?”

“Fuck. You. I’d like to see you come up with something half as amazing as that.”

“What happens when we die?” Terezi interrupts, but it doesn’t seem like anyone else has noticed.

“Look whatever Karkat, I’m cool with it let’s go make can town on a slightly bigger scale. Sounds fun.”

You’re rubbing your temples again. Your hangover is really not appreciating this.

Karkat nods, then pauses, and for another second you have wonderful, fantastic, beloved silence. “I don’t know. We go to the dreambubbles, I… think.”

What? Oh. He was replying to Terezi. You will have to give her a cookie of some kind as thanks for getting Karkat to be quiet.

Or at least help her get her question answered.

“I think that Terezi is wondering what will happen to your new project,” you say. Oh god it hurts a little to talk. Owww. “If you are attempting to establish something that will outlast us… there are a number of significant obstacles in our way.”

“Yes. What Rose said.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Rose and Dave are neither matesprits nor kismeses,” Terezi explains. “And there is no mothergrub for us. I’m not sure about the Mayor, but I don’t think that he can do anything either.”

“And we have no matriorb, for another,” Kanaya adds.

“Don’t worry, I have a plan. The lower levels of this meteor are full of freakish test tubes full of horrific monsters. I know it got boring killing them long ago, but listen. Those test tubes are connected to the same goddamn ectobiology lab that I was unfortunate enough to stumble upon while playing Sgrub. The same lab that made all of us.” Karkat pauses, seemingly waiting for a reaction that never comes. “Do I have to schoolfeed this to you or can you wrap your thinkpans around what I’m getting at?”

“Don’t you think that one Gamzee is enough of a hassle?” asks Terezi. “I do not think that I can handle another Gamzee being manufactured.”

“I’m not talking about Gamzee!” he replies. “Not just Gamzee. If we figure out how to use it we could make anyone!”

“Do you realize that that would…” You stop. “You know what, never mind. I’m sure you’ll figure out on your own. Please, finish up so that I can endure my hangover in peace.”

Why did you even come out here? Your head hurts.

“I’m done,” he responds. He crosses his arms.

You turn away and try to drink some coffee in peace. Terezi resumes eating… spooning out… drinking catsup from her bowl. Dave shoves more cereal in his mouth.

Kanaya taps her fingers on the table, then turns her attention back to you. You smile weakly at her as you sip some more coffee.

“…Wow, what an enthusiastic reception.”

“We’re tired,” Terezi says. “And hungry. What do you expect?”

“I don’t fucking know anymore.”

Dave puts down the cereal box. “Actually I think I’m finally awake. Come on Dr. Frankenstein, let’s get some corpses and set up the lightning apparatus. Just don’t call me Igor. The whole minion thing would be terrible for my posture.”

“Fine. I’m going to go draw up a plan. I’ll be back later with what I need from you all. Everyone needs to pitch in to make this work. Each and every one of you fuckheads needs to contribute.”

“If he doesn’t stop yelling I don’t think I’ll be able to ‘contribute’ anything except perhaps vitreous humors from my facial orifices,” you mutter, and Kanaya puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Karkat grumbles some more, but your brain is honestly too fuzzy to pay him much more attention; it’s something about being prepared and making a schedule and bluh bluh bluh. You try to just concentrate on Kanaya’s light touch. Finally, he stomps off, thank the Outer Gods for small mercies.

And so, like a summer storm, Karkat vanishes as suddenly as he appeared, giving you the chance to shore up your houses and make repairs before the next squall.

Hm, that’s good, you should write that down.

Maybe once you can see straight.


	2. The Doom that Came to Can Town

February 16th, Year 1 of Sweep 2

You are Dave Strider, and you have just walked in on your girlfriend in the middle of terrorizing the cylindrical citizenry of an aluminum and tin metropolis. Alchemized tennis balls are being thrown every which way as Terezi makes little screaming noises.

Then, it’s over. Terezi stands in the middle of the blast site, one last tennis ball in her hands. No tower has been left untoppled. Some of the cans have even been busted open, and the streets are flooded with cold chicken soup.

“And thus their little world comes to an end. But wait,” she says. “For some have survived! And they must form a new society, with new laws to carry them forth into glory.”

The Mayor waves his arms in the air with excitement.

“The poor, miserable survivors of this catastrophe must be guided by new laws, because their old ones, including monarchy,” she says as she nods in the Mayor’s direction, “have led them down the path of Just But Inevitable Doom. Surely it was their own folly that caused this.” She pauses and sniffs the air around her. “Yes. It surely was.”

The Mayor starts putting the buildings back together. You think he’s trying to say that the dear, brave citizens of Can Town are rebuilding!

“What happened here?” you ask. “Did the little can people enter a sburb session or something?”

Terezi nods. “Six small citizens of Can Town escaped to the medium.” She throws her last tennis ball, knocking down a tower that the Mayor had just rebuilt. “Death continues to rain down from above. Oh, what horror!”

“Oh no, how could such a disaster befall them? Surely their orderly streets and strict zoning laws would preserve them from falling meteors.”

The Mayor nods at your words. With a few gestures he points out that the residential section is well-zoned.

Terezi disagrees, however. “Never. Their order was chaos, and their strictness was too loose. And thus: meteors.”

“Who exactly are the residents of Can Town anyway? Are we talking little bean people or something? But that’s fucked up, y’know? Building libraries outta people.”

Terezi gently kicks a can. It rolls across the floor.

“You have human practices that are just as disgusting.”

The Mayor picks up a tennis ball, evidently considering how it might be incorporated into the new fire station.

“I guess maybe they’re all Mafia cans, hiding bodies of their enemies in building endstones until they have no other building material, just making buildings outta the bodies they need to cover up, being all like ‘Hey Joe we need some more bricks for this memorial in honor of all those killed by the Mafia. Got any people you’re planning to whack in the near future?”

This garners you a reproachful look from the Mayor. He does not allow for the Mafia in his town, you are made to understand; it is a respectable municipality!

“We shall make buildings out of all that were unjust! We must hold trials.” Terezi picks up a can and inspects it. “Are you guilty, Chef Boyardee? Dave, we must assemble a courtroom.”

The Mayor quickly starts building a courthouse. He knows the blueprints for courthouses very well (he is often asked to build them).

“Sure. Just let me get some bricks,” you reply, grabbing a can. “Is this really the building material you want for a courthouse? It might send the wrong message.”

Karkat chooses that moment to stomp in. “Terezi! Strider!”

“Oh hey Karkat. Do you think it would send the wrong message to build a courthouse out of the bodies of people killed by the Mafia?”

“What?”

“Well, I feel like it might send the wrong message. Y’know, crime doesn’t pay and all but I guess maybe the guys who did this were pretty good at it. I mean, it’s also kinda a problem if you need to call up the Don every time you need to remodel. Then again he probably runs the labor union anyway so you might just be cutting out the middleman.”

“Perhaps it would be a fitting tribute,” Terezi says. “Once slain by vile criminals, their remains will serve to oversee justice from this time forward.”

“Why are we building things out of bodies, what the fuck!?”

Karkat looks like he’s about to explode with whatever shitty idea he wants to tell you about this time, but you press on just to see how long you can keep him off topic with this bullshit.

“Karkat, have you ever wondered who the residents of Can Town are?” you ask.

“What? No. This is Can Town, we’re the fucking residents.”

“Really? No offense to the Mayor but I don’t think that I could actually fit into one of those houses.” 

You look over and see that he has not taken offense. “I mean, I think fitting a full-sized person is probably a fire code violation or some shit. I mean not that it would be difficult escaping in case of a fire, or even that the cans could actually catch on fire…”

“Perhaps if it were sufficiently hot,” Terezi offers.

The Mayor expresses that he does have a fire code, and would be happy to mime it for all of you.

“I’m not talking about a fucking fire code,” Karkat responds. “I’m saying I don’t think we need to build things out of corpses.”

“Are you seriously suggesting that we build the courthouse out of living people? That is just sick man. How would you even keep them fed?”

“Nutrient slurry raining down from the sky.”

“That’s fucking disgusting, Terezi.”

She didn’t even take a second to think about it. You turn to her. “Wait. Was that actually a thing?”

“The idea was once considered. It was in order to make prisons out of prisoners.”

“OH MY GOD.”

“It would have been very efficient. But then the Condesce decided to form penal legions instead.”

“That takes some guts, arming all those prisoners. Seems like a good way to get a revolt. And then you try to capture them again and find the leader, but you’ve got everyone claiming to be Troll Spartacus. And you just can’t figure out who the fuck is actually Troll Spartacus.”

“They were not armed, exactly. Laser fodder doesn’t need to be armed. There isn’t much point to it.”

“Ah well, that explains it. I guess Troll Spartacus just got lasered before anyone decided that it would be a good idea to be him.”

It appears that the Mayor has lost any interest in the nature of his building materials. He is building the courthouse out of cans, whether they are citizens or not.

“This is stupid,” Karkat decides. “Strider, Terezi, I have jobs for you. I’ve sent you each a spreadsheet, listing the necessary tasks that must be accomplished, and which are assigned to which resident. We’re going to be organized, we’re going to be efficient, we’re going to get this shit done. No more fucking around.”

“Wow Karkat I’m impressed. I mean normally I’d just ignore you but if you make a fucking spreadsheet… Wow, that must have required a computer or something. I mean how can I ignore the guy with the spreadsheet? TZ? You know a way to resist the siren call of rows and rows of organized shitty little numbers?”

“It may possibly be illegal.”

“You don’t motherfucking ignore me. If you’ll pay a nano-modicum of attention, you’ll see those numbers are alchemiter codes. All the ones I know. You can add yours. This way we don’t all have to run around like dying cluckbeasts whenever we need to remember a code.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Terezi says.

“Fuck yes it does,” Karkat replies. “I don’t know why we haven’t done it sooner.”

“Wait is that a code for AJ? You’ve figured out how to make apple juice!? Fuck yes. Count me in. Where can I sign up to fill your computer with codes for shitty foam stuff?”

“I sent you the file. Just add to it and send it back, whatever.”

“Okay just give me a minute. Gotta figure out what useless ass shit to add first.” For the briefest of moments you consider adding the codes for Rose’s journals. You don’t need to reflect long on the matter to realize that you don’t want to face the consequences of that, however, so instead you start with all of the Sweet Bro & Hella Jeff stuff that you’ve made over the years.

You will quite possibly never actually get around to adding anything useful. Or at least, useful from Karkat’s point of view. It is an intellectual powerhouse of fine literature that you are ensuring that future generations will inherit. They will pore over Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff like monks on the Bible, becoming well-versed in the hidden meanings and deep symbolism of its passages. But in the meantime, Karkat’s going to be furious when he sees your contributions and that shit is bound to be hilarious.

“Okay, great. When you’re done with that, I’ll need volunteers for other projects. I have you both in mind for specific tasks, but if you think you’d be better-suited to other projects than I am willing to consider switching you.”

“Such as?” Terezi asks.

“Well, if we’re going to make a new universe, we’ll need to know what we’re dealing with. We need to make a comprehensive map of the inner levels of the meteor, including all the monster-filled areas, the freaky test tube areas, the ectobiology labs, and anything else down there. We’ll also need to figure out where the monsters are coming from, and figure out if we can get grist from them indefinitely or if there’s something else going on. We’ll also have to make sure that they’re contained and that the meteor isn’t about to explode into a chess monster apocalypse.”

“Woah Karkat you really figured out how to alchemize popsickles?”

Karkat sighs. “Yes, Strider.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because no one else could use them and they’re fucking useless.”

“What are you talking about? We have hardly any codes for decent junk food. And no offense but all the snacks the trolls around left are fucking weird.”

“What? What the fuck are you on about?”

“Popsickles!”

“What about them?”

“They’ve gotta be the same thing, Terezi keeps going on and on about how things smell like them. I mean no offense Terezi but is it possible for you to hold a conversation without making me hungry?”

“I can’t smell without being made hungry.”

“We have plenty of food and you can’t use the popsickles anyway,” Karkat informs you, “unless you appearified a new fucking strife deck out of nowhere.”

“What? Why would I want to use icecreamkind? Are we fighting chocolate syrup imps or something? And Terezi how are not also mad about Karkat hogging all the popsickles?”

“There is more to life than popsickles.”

“I DIDN’T COME HERE TO ARGUE ABOUT POPSICKLES WITH YOU SHITBRAINED WIGGLERS!”

“Yeah you came here because you wanted to steal all the codes for all of my sick loot, I get it.”

“Oh my god. The popsickles are right there on the spreadsheet. You want them, knock your stupid self unconscious. I have things to do. Important leadership things. When you’re done with the codes, sign up for a project. We need all the troll-power we can get.”

“What do you have in mind for us?” Terezi asks.

“Terezi, you and Rose are Seers and you’re… reasonably organized, so I thought you would make a good mapping team.”

“Have you seen Rose lately?” Dave asks. “Say, some time in the last month or so? Unless you want a map of boozetown I’m not sure if she’s really up for the task. Not that boozetown is a bad place mind you. Full of tourist traps though.”

“Perhaps it could merge with Can Town,” Terezi says. “Or be acquired in a hostile takeover so that its citizens might be utilized for building materials to spare the citizens of Can Town.”

“We’re making buildings out of prisoners of war now? That’s gotta violate the Geneva conventions. You don’t want the Mayor to get arrested for war crimes do you?”

Karkat groans. “Oh my fucking god not this again…”

“There is considerable precedent under Alternian law. What are war crimes?”

“I don’t know, like bombing hospitals and shit. And then everyone accuses you of war crimes. But of course nobody can actually do anything about it because while they’re off playing nice you’re busy bombing their fucking hospitals.”

Terezi has a look of concentration. “I take it that humans do not bomb hospitals?”

“Nah, probably most of them did. But maybe they would try not to, or at least claim that they didn’t, because otherwise you have everyone ineffectually accusing you of war crimes and shit, and that’s just no good.”

“Hm. We don’t have that.”

“Yeah that figures. All ‘If you didn’t want to get bombed maybe you should have gotten injured in the first place.”

Karkat is muttering and looking over his spreadsheet. By the sound of it he is trying to find a good place to assign Rose. The Mayor offers him a can, which he accepts absent-mindedly. “Thanks. Don’t worry about it, I got this. I’m not fucking up this time.” He shakes his head. “Let me know when you’re done and we can start with the projects. I’m going to go see Rose.”

“I’ll come with you,” Terezi says.

“Have fun. I’ll go see about those popsickles.”

Karkat and your gal peace out to go find Rose, so you split to go alchemize your sick ice cream on a stick. When you figure out what they actually are, you are sorely disappointed.

===> DAVE: Be your gal

You are now Terezi. You are walking down the hall with Karkat on the way to Rose’s respiteblock.

“Why do you want to do this?” you ask Karkat. “You know this will mean raising wigglers.”

“Ugh, look, it’s not that. I’m not looking forward to that. But what else are we supposed to be fucking doing, Terezi?”

“But are we even capable of doing this? I suppose that we can leave the wigglers alone for awhile, maybe throw them in the basement where the monsters are, for their trials. But after that, they’ll still need lusii.”

“I don’t know. Humans use each other as lusii. Maybe Rose and Strider will be the lusii. I’m trying to take this one step at a time, because when I think about how many things need to be done I feel like my thinkpan is melting out of my mucus ducts.”

“We should ask Rose and Dave if they’d like to be lusii.”

“Right. I’ll get to that.”

“Would Kanaya be okay with being matesprits with a sort-of-lusus? We should talk to her too.”

“I’m sure Rose will tell her Matesprit about any plans to become a lusus.”

“But what I mean is that we should figure this out first, before we bring in wigglers and destroy their lives from the beginning because we didn’t know what to do…”

You turn away. By the smell of it, Karkat looks down as well. “I’m not going to make wigglers right off the bat,” he says. “I want to figure out if it’s possible first. Mapping out the meteor will help us figure out the possibilities, and will be good for us if we’re living here for indefinite sweeps of time. Even if it turns out that we can’t have wigglers at all, it’s an important thing to do. We need to get a grip on what we’re working with. This is our new universe, we need to make it work.”

“Well…” The two of you stop in front of Rose’s door. “For what it’s worth, I think that you would do a good job,” you tell him. “Assigning human lusii or making trials or whatever. I mean you did make us all to begin with.”

“Yeah, I did. Thanks, Terezi.”

You knock on the door.

===> TEREZI: Be Potential Lusus One

You are Rose Lalonde. You are sitting calmly in your dimly-lit room slowly working your way through your latest knitting project. You reach over to your bedside table and pour some of the dark liquid there into your glass. You take a sip of your, let’s call it brandy. Actually, you are unsure what to call the distilled fermentations of the Alternian plant you employed, and so the current label will have to do. Perhaps this is an opportunity to find creative ways to expand the lexicon. You begin to contemplate this problem, but your thoughts are shortly interrupted by the sound of someone pounding on your door.

“Who intrudes upon my lair?” you inquire.

“Rose it’s us,” Karkat says.

“The Inquisition,” Terezi adds.

You lift your glass and let a bit of the harsh liquid within slide down your throat. “Very well, you may come in, but proceed at your own peril.” Terezi and Karkat enter, and as they do so you swish the liquid around in your glass. You wish that you had a cat to stroke to complete the image. “Welcome, welcome. What dread need compels you to brave the dangers in order to come all the way out here?”

You take a sip from your glass.

“Rose, uh…” Karkat straightens his posture. “I sent out a spreadsheet on Trollian, with all the shit we have to do to make the new universe. I can only desperately claw at the hope that you’ve glanced at it. But if you haven’t, I’m here to point out the column labeled ‘alchemy codes,’ as well as to the astoundingly numerous volunteer gaps.”

Shit. You had really hoped that you would have a little bit more time to ambulate about purposelessly before having to deal with Karkat’s proposal. You feel a thread of anxiety gripping at your chest, and take another sip from your glass to help quell it.

“I think a team of two would be best for mapping the inner parts of the meteor,” he continues.   
“Though if you’d rather join Strider in investigating the monster populations, I’d be okay with it.”

“Yes, I have noticed your lists,” you reply. “One does wonder what exactly instigated this project. Perhaps you are trying to fill some lost need. Or perhaps you merely wish to be in charge of things again?”

“What? You were there, Rose, you were fucking there.”

You take yet another drink. “I think you are perhaps overestimating my perceptual abilities.”

“And I am pretty sure that she was drunk,” Terezi adds.

“I made the damn announcement yesterday. I am now following up, like any good leader would.”

“Yessh,” you say, slurring the word. Damn. You must be taking the booze too quickly this afternoon. “But this doesn’t really explain why you are so keen on pursuing this program.”

“What, you think you have a better plan? Because we followed your plan, Rose, and it didn’t exactly work.”

“And as much as I pity Dave,” Terezi says, “I don’t want to follow any grand plans that he might suggest here.”

You look down into your glass. “We seem to have been granted a respite from our duties,” you say. “I wonder why you are so eager to acquire new ones so rapidly.”

“What is the legislacerator without her court?” Terezi asks you.

You take another drink. This one is somewhat larger than the previous ones.

“It’s been over a sweep!” Karkat says. “What are we supposed to be waiting for, now? You see anything coming up in the fortuitous future I should know about, that might affect my plans? Or is it just a big shitload of nothingness into the indefinite eternity? Because if something’s coming up that we should know about, I’m all auriculars here.”

Your old visions of Lord English flash through your memory. You finish your glass, hoping that you have managed to keep your distress off your face as you move to refill it. “I have yet to begin a thorough study of our present circumstances. My previous error has left me somewhat unsure, especially given that I do not know the cause of it.”

“Well, where does that that fall on the schedule, then? Because last I heard, the news was ‘We’re lost and can’t go anywhere else, so we’re fucked.’ If this news is going to significantly change, please let me know before I get to the point of wiggler-creation because that’s something I’d like to avoid if there are other options.”

You finish filling up your new glass. “I-I don’t know. I think I need some time. I jusht… don’t want to mess up again.”

“Fine. In the meanwhile, you can fill out the alchemy codes, which is important to do whether or not we’re actually stuck here in a permanent way.”

You nod, relaxing some of the tension that had been building throughout this conversation.

“I’ll add you into the project slot: ‘Figure out where we are headed to, since we’re not actually headed to our destination.’ And I guess Terezi will be mapping alone. Are you okay with that, Terezi?”

“Sure.”

You take yet another drink. “Well I shuppose if you need to keep your spreadsheet full.”

“Yes. Great. Ha, shit, this is actually going better than expected. Okay, once we’re mapped, and the monsters are investigated, and the ectobiology lab has been inspected, and the alchemy codes are all catalogued, I’m going to be making a timeline for our universe-building.”

“Timeline?” Terezi asks.

“Yes. We’re not working with the game anymore, so it won’t be an instant universe. We’ll need a schedule. The monster investigations will tell us how much grist we can get our fronds on, which will tell us how much we can build. The meteor can be the core, but we’ll build around it. Because in case you haven’t noticed, this rock is pretty fucking small.”

“If… If you think so,” Terezi responds. By the look of her she’s starting to wonder if the closed spaces are getting to Karkat.

He looks at her. “Don’t you want your own hive again?”

You, likewise, are vacillating between “this sounds interesting, if awfully odd” and “from which pit of dark madness is Karkat dredging up these ideas?”

“You want to figure out how to alchemishe dirt?” you ask.

“Sure, I mean, fuck, if humans make their hives out of dirt, we can alchemize dirt. We’re going to civilize the shit out of this meteor.”

Oh god. What is happening? What is this madness? Where did you put the other bottle of liquor?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...aaaand we kinda borrowed the popsickle idea from Patronswap.


	3. How to Harvest Monster Meat

February 18th, Year 1 of Sweep 2

You are Dave again. After Karkat damn near broke your door down complaining about how you hadn’t been doing anything useful since he talked to you last, you finally decided to take a small expedition into the labyrinthine depths of the meteor. After all, you can’t complain about the opportunity to get some time alone with Terezi, can you?

Well, maybe not ordinarily. Right now though, she’s being a little bit freaky. Not that you mind freaky, obviously, but there’s freaky and then there’s… Well, it also turns out that there’s meat and then there’s fresh meat.

“Do we actually expect to find anything other than more lame chessmen or is this just to keep Karkat quiet?”

“This is better than your jerky. So I consider our venture a success already,” she says, talking around half a mouthful of chess monster flesh.

Monsters turn to grist when they die. You found that out on your first day in the game. What Terezi has just discovered, however, is that anything that gets torn off before the monster dies does not go the same way. At your request she has refrained from actually eating anyone alive, settling instead for chopping off bits of them before they die.

“I still don’t get what went wrong with the jerky,” you say.

“It was horrible. And I blame you.” She frowns at you but then, just as quickly, grins a little bit. “If I didn’t know better I would think you were flirting black with me.”

“I just don’t get it. Jerky is a staple of the coolkid diet back home. And trolls are all about the eating of dead things. How could it not have worked?”

The basement corridor goes on for as long as you can see. It is immaculately clean, except for the gouges on the walls where a monster must have rubbed on it. And where Terezi is dripping little bits of monster juice on the floor.

“You poisoned it. For some ironic purpose which I assume had nothing to do with blackrom.”

“Can’t a guy make an honest mistake without being involved in some inexplicable mustache-twirling attempt to poison his girlfriend for no reason?”

“Perhaps. The other way would be fun though. Tell me more of this… mustache-twirling.”

“Well it’s the standard Earth symbol for being an evil douchebag for basically no damn reason. You twirl your mustache and tie damsels to train tracks.”

“Oh,” she says, looking disappointed for some reason.

“Basically the international signal for saying “Look at me, I’m eeeeeevil, try and stop me.”

Anddddd… she’s interested again. “And to whom are these taunts traditionally made?”

“Well traditionally you taunt the hero. Either that or the audience, I mean usually it’s a movie thing. But if you wanted to let everyone know about their evil schemes in real life it’s probably the place to start.”

“And what does the mustache twirler do when the hero confronts her?”

“Well villains of the mustache-twirling variety tend to run away. Maybe throw a few oversized henchmen after the hero. I guess the kind of villain that takes the hero on face to face doesn’t have a mustache. I mean if you’re already an invincible bad guy why do you need the whole tacky outfit to prove it?”

“Oh.” She looks vaguely disappointed again, and turns to gnaw some more on the chess monster’s bone. “I’m still hungry,” she says suddenly. “Let’s get some more. And keep it from dying so quickly this time. Grist doesn’t taste good.”

“Right. Make sure to play with the little monster so you can hack off bits to eat before we turn the whole thing into weird inedible gusher-things.”

You just want to know which god you got the attention of in order to have this become your life. Not sure whether you’d thank him or toilet paper his house, but he certainly deserves something in recognition of whatever the fuck this is.

“Like home,” she says brightly. “I would practice this, you know. I was… going to teach my lusus to hunt. Nepeta made me realize that it would be necessary. S-So I… tried hunting things… without killing them.” She tosses the chewed-up bone on the floor.

She heads to the door, over to your right, and you follow her. The room inside is an empty dead end, though the checkerboard floor’s tiles are larger than those in the hallways.

“Dave, how are you with drawing the map so far?”

“Oh right.” You pull out the paper that you’ve been neglecting for the last bit. “I am the king of deciphering funky labyrinths.” You busy yourself scribbling on the piece of paper you’ve decided to declare a map, but are distracted when Terezi yells your name.

“Dave!”

“Just got to add another passage here—wait what?”

You look up to see Terezi off-balance, teetering, like she’s about to fall. You rush over, too late to catch her, and dive after her into what is apparently not a black tile but a large square hole. You fly through the darkness after the falling troll.

-===> DAVE: Be the Falling Troll.

You are Terezi and you have just discovered that the section of floor you were trying to walk on did not in fact exist, and so you find yourself falling. After a few moments you splash into the water. You kick, hoping that you’re not too far down, and reach the surface with a gasp. You can smell Dave coming in above you, but more slowly, flying rather than letting gravity do its thing. 

You lay spread-eagled, floating on the water, waiting for him to arrive. Too late, you realize that Dave is still flying down a little too fast and is not slowing down. Before you can move out of the way he collides into you, dunking the both of you under.

Once you’re on the surface again, you spit water at him. “Hello Dave.”

You bob up and down on the water a little bit, then kick back to float again,  
“You alright there? I mean this is water right, not some toxic lime-flavored slime or some shit?”

“It smells like water.”

“Well, that’s good, I would hate to go by falling into some sort of tacky acid trap or something. How mad were the scientists that built this place anyway? Anyway, grab on, I’ll lift us back up top.”

You extend a hand, and Dave pulls you in close. A little more closely than is necessary, but you find it endearing, the little ways that Dave betrays just how fond of you he really is.

Then something grabs your ankle, and you snarl and kick at it. The grabbing-ankle thing is bendy-flexy, like a tentacle. You try to claw at it with your hands, squirming in Dave’s grasp. The tentacle is rubbery but not that tough. You draw blood, but the tentacle reacts by pulling down. You struggle against it, but think you might want backup on this one.

-===> TEREZI: Be the backup

You are Dave Strider and you’re not sure what’s going on with this backup thing. I mean, you seem to be getting yanked down somehow. Or Terezi is, anyway. She’s snarling and growling and in general not really sounding like a civilized person. Not that she is a civilized person, probably, come to think of it, but let’s not think about that right now.

Before you can find something else to think about, something wraps around your foot.  
“Hey what—“

You’re surprised by the tentacle, but you finally have some idea of what’s going on. You fully let go of Terezi and draw your sword to start chopping at the thing on your feet. Below, Terezi plunges into the water, while your sword severs the tentacle winding up and around your leg.

“Terezi? Where are you?”

“Over here.”

You dive after the voice, tucking your sword away again. You can hear light splashing, like someone is swimming.

A pair of tentacles assaults you, and by the sounds Terezi is making, you aren’t the only one. You take your sword back out, but you are having a little bit of difficulty in that department what with having tentacles on both of your arms. You thrash about trying to get a decent angle on either of the tentacles on you.

The tentacles pull you under the water, and you see a glow beneath the surface. Illuminated by it you can see Terezi biting and thrashing with her sword cane. You can also see what’s attacking you, some sort of very large squid that looks a little like a bishop. A chess bishop, that is, not a catholic bishop. Whatever.

Being able to see now, you’re actually able to coordinate and get a decent stab off against one of the tentacles. The tentacle that you stab is… well, it either lets go of you or is just plain severed. It’s hard to tell in the dim light. You pass the sword to your left hand to try to get a chop at the other tentacle.

And then the tentacles let go of you and Terezi both. The Squid-Bishop is descending, retreating away, going in the direction of the glow.

After making sure that Terezi is safe you pop up for a bit of air and then head after the monster. You fly and you swim, diving briefly to reorient yourself and keep track of its location. When you reach it the Squid-Bishop is midwater, a few dozen feet down, against what looks like an underwater wall inset with glowing panels. There is also a grate, with bars too close together for either the monster or yourself to pass through it.

You charge the monster, sword ready. It attempts to meet you with its remaining tentacles, but at this point it really isn’t a match for you and Caldersnatch. You push onward toward the head.  
It tries to swim away, and it’s probably faster than you underwater, but it’s cornered itself. Especially now that Terezi is swimming up behind you.

After years of working together, the two of you can fight side by side without the need to talk. Terezi darts past you on the left, teeth bared on the monster. You wait a moment, dialing Caldersnatch up to full length, before diving to the right to cut off its escape. You dive towards it, lungs complaining like an old lady who thinks her steak is undercooked. You find the creature stalled, its remaining arms trying to pry Terezi off as she tears at it like a dog with a rubber bone. You doubt the monster even notices you as you swim up behind its pointy head and, raising your sword overhead, plunge the blade into its eye. The squid shudders for a moment before vanishing, replaced by a rainbow of grist, scattered to the corners of the pool before it begins to slowly sink towards the floor.

By this point, your lungs have stopped their polite petitions and leaflet campaigns and have instead decided to start rioting in the streets. You suppose you’d better appease the fuckers, so you make a mad fucking sprint towards the surface. After far too fucking long you finally make it to the top and gasp for air.

After catching your breath, you put Caldersnatch back in your specibus and swim in the direction of Terezi’s breathing.

“Yeah that was pretty much a mad scientist death trap. The whole giant squid-infested waters at the bottom of a pit is pretty much a sure sign that there’s a cackling labcoated madman somewhere nearby.”

“It was delicious.”

“That figures, we almost get drowned by that thing and all you can think about is calamari. If someone wanted to trap you all they would need to do is find some really delicious-tasting glue or something.”

“You should try it and see if that works.”

“You are hopeless. How haven’t you fallen into a pit of cherry-flavored lava yet? It is a mystery. Oh and bee tee dubs please don’t fall into a pit of lava.”

“Cherries taste awful. Unless it’s cherry-flavored candy...”

“What’s the difference?”

“The candies don’t taste like cherries.”

“Well, that’s good to know either way. You’re safe from at least one type of lava then. Just need to get all the lava manufacturers to agree to make it cherry-flavored as an appropriate danger warning for blind trolls. Of course then they start complaining about excessive regulation. And how come if they always made their lava strawberry-flavored in the past it wasn’t good enough anymore. So really what are you going to do? They’re just going to make their lava whatever flavor they feel like anyway.”

“If they disregard our mandates, then they will be prosecuted. And hung.” She pauses. “We really have to create a system of laws.”

“At the very least that way we can agree on how impossible it should be to regulate fucking lava floors.”

“No. After the first few are hung, the rest will fall in line.” She sounds quite resolute.

“Yeah well, the troll system does make it sound much easier to get shit done, that’s for fucking sure.”

“It is very efficient. The empire depends on it.”

“So, want to get out of here before Son of Squidzilla comes looking for us?”

“In a moment.” Terezi cuts off the watery banter in order to descend and recover the sparkling grist beneath your feet. You head down to help, wishing the whole time that you were a better swimmer.

The grist is quite deep, but has settled near the spot where the squid was. That is, right next to a giant grate. The grate has a lever next to it, which, apparently just for shits and giggles, Terezi pulls. The grate opens and… hey, look, the water is draining out.

The current is strong, and you find quite suddenly that you can’t swim against it. You’re find yourself pushed flush against the grating, and it’s a good thing that you can’t fit through the bars. Still, being pinned at the bottom the world’s largest toilet drain is not your idea of a fun time. You kinda wish you could be someone else right now.

-===> DAVE: Be someone else

You are Karkat Vantas, and you are busily stomping your way over to Rose’s room. You have important business to discuss. Important, universe-creating business. You arrive and knock loudly on her door.

“Yes? Who is it?”

“Rose, it’s me.”

“You may enter if you wish.”

You try the handle, and find it to be unlocked. The room is lit more dimly than humans seem to prefer, but you’re perfectly comfortable in it. You decide to get straight to the point.

“I’m here to check on your progress on predicting our trajectory.”

“Oh, of course.” Rose puts down her book and interlaces her fingers, looking down at them as if they were the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. “Unfortunately, I have been otherwise occupied and therefore have little new information to share with you on that front.”

“Occupied? You mean you haven’t done anything? Oh my god. You do. That’s what you mean. Have you even left this fucking block?” You gesture wildly as you speak in order to get your point across better. “I thought you were locked up in here doing your… Light-y Thing! It’s only been a few days, I’m not expecting enormously great strides in the realm of ‘Knowing Where The Fuck We’re Going’. All I wanted was a little fucking update. A “Well I Know where we’re not going’ or a “I’ve narrowed it down by half’ or even a ‘I know how to find out, I just haven’t yet’. Or fuck maybe even a ‘I can’t do this at all and I should be given a different project.’ Can you do it, Lalonde?”

You lean in, and she looks away, as if the fascinating thing on her hands had just leapt onto the opposite wall. “Well I suspect that I could. On the other hand, my navigational talents seem to have a less than pristine record so far on this journey.”

“So you’re giving up.” You can’t believe this shit. “Okay, okay. Well, we can save that for later. Is there a different task you’d rather do? Dave volunteered to go with Terezi. So we still need someone to figure out how to get a steady supply of grist from the monsters.”

Rose smiles slightly, seeming relieved for the change of task. “Well, I suppose if they need help mapping things, I could participate. Though honestly, I do not find the idea of crawling through a thousand identical corridors to be very appealing.”

You shake your head and hold up your crablet tablet, indicating the spreadsheet. “Terezi and Dave are taking care of the maps. I mean I need someone to investigate whether the monsters can be farmed for their grist.”

“You mean in the sense of raising imps in confined areas to make for easier and more plentiful grist extraction? A task which could be broken down into subgoals like locking a pair of said monsters in a cage together and seeing if they copulate?”

“Uh, sure, like, letting them take over a few rooms and going to cull them as needed. But we don’t know how many of them there are or how often they spawn.” You can’t hold back a slight grimace. “I don’t think ‘copulating’ is needed; the machines down there seem to make the fuckers on their own. I used to find them in these giant test tubes all the time down there.”

“And you determined that because they could be found in test tubes that they must have been created there? Interesting.”

“Well where else would they be coming from?” To be frank, you just really fucking hope that you won’t have to deal with monsters ‘copulating.’ 

“I think I have some worrying news to give you Karkat. Food is not actually manufactured in cupboards.”

“Shut up, Lalonde. Fuck, it’s not like we ever find juvenile monsters!” This is really obvious, why isn’t she getting it? It’s Sgrub, of course everything comes from fucking test tubes. YOU come from a fucking test tube.

“Karkat. This was some sort of science station, was it not? Generally when something is in a test tube it is because you wish to perform tests on it. Hence the name.”

You throw up your hands in exasperation. “Well, why don’t you go find out where they come from, then?”

She gives you one of those infuriating half-smiles of hers, “Perhaps I will.”

It’s at that point that the ventilation grate in the ceiling explodes and showers gallons of water down on your heads.

And then, before you can even process what is happening, Nepeta kicks you in the face.


	4. Caffeinated Garbage Hole

_February 18th, Year 1 of Sweep 2_  
  
You are Dave Strider, and you are still pinned by the torrent pulling you against the drain that Terezi seems to have just opened. Terezi herself is spread-eagled against the grate. And you, having lost your fight against the current, find yourself somewhat spread-eagled against her (not a bad situation, all things considered). The good news (or the other good news, perhaps) is that you’re picking up all of the grist as it gets caught against the grate too.  
  
Thankfully, the water finishes draining before you drown. Both of you are soaked. You cough a bit, catching your breath.  
  
You appear to be at the bottom of a large chamber. The grate, you can now see, is part of the ventilation system that extends throughout the meteor. Where did the water go? Who knows? Probably the blackness of the space or a sewage plant or some shit. Nobody cares anyway, least of all you.  
  
Terezi shivers. Or shakes. It’s hard to tell.  
  
You notice that the glow is still present: one wall appears to be fluorescent. Actually, it’s very bright. Too bright. Oh, goddammit. The water took your shades.  
  
“No more water,” you say. “Maybe someone should put up a ‘Warning: Do not fall to your death’ sign.”  
  
Terezi retrieves her cane from against the grate.  
  
“Also, just curious and all but purely out of academic interest but did the paper you give me for map drawing happen to be absurdly waterproof for some reason?” You try to shake the water out of your clothing, hoping that your god-tier PJs have an auto-drying feature. Terezi is doing a much better job of shaking herself dry. She’s like a fucking dog getting out of a bath. Just don’t tell her that you thought that. You take a step back to avoid being too close to the water being thrown off. Also to keep out of range of her uncanny ability to pick up on what you’re thinking.  
  
Terezi just grins.  
  
“I don’t think there’s much down here except for maybe the glowing wall over there. Though if you wanna go search for some more beached squid we could do that.”  
  
“I’m not very hungry anymore.”  
  
“Okay cool. So what’s next then? Do we like go back and tell Karkat that the place is infested with squid-filled deathtraps or like just keep exploring?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Uh what?”  
  
“Let’s see what Karkat is doing.”  
  
“Sure.” The wall continues to glow way too harshly. You ignore it, in favor of getting out your smuppetphone.  
  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] --  
  
TG: hey karkat you there  
TG: we just ran into what was either a poorly designed deathtrap or a really shitty diving board  
CG: WHAT? FUCK, DID YOU DIE OR SOMETHING?  
TG: yeah all over the wall  
CG: YOU DOVE INTO THE WALL?  
TG: like somebody painted it in whatever fireflies are made out of  
CG: THIS CONNECTION SUCKS SHAME GLOBE. I’M NOT GETTING EVERYTHING.  
CG: YOU SET THE WALLS ON FIRE?  
TG: yes karkat we dove into a wall and now are in the fucking magical fire kingdom  
CG: FUCKING FANTASTIC. GREAT. JUST MAKE SURE TO KEEP TRACK OF WHERE YOU ARE.  
CG: THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS FUCKING VENTURE.  
TG: you should come join us first skin melting is free  
TG: but yeah we totally know where we are  
TG: at the bottom of a pit in the middle of a rock somewhere in space  
CG: IS THERE SOMETHING IMPORTANT YOU WANTED TO SAY, STRIDER, OR ARE YOU JUST SHITTING AWAY MY TIME?  
TG: just that the giant squid ate my homework  
TG: also that this place is a fucking deathtrap  
CG: SCARED, STRIDER? WELL, IF YOU’RE TOO CLUCKBEAST-SHIT TO MAP THE PLACE, I GUESS I CAN ASK KANAYA, AND PUT YOU ON ECTOEXPERIMENT DUTY.  
TG: yknow what  
TG: fuck you karkat  
TG: you wanted to know whats done here and then act like this when we try to fill you in  
CG: GODDAMMIT, STRIDER. THE PLACE IS FULL OF DEATH TRAPS OH NO! WELL SO IS THE WHOLE GODDAMN GAME!  
CG: IS THIS NEWS TO YOU?  
  
“You’re fantastic with each other.” The voice gives you a start. Terezi, you realize, has been leaning over your shoulder this whole time, sniffing intently.  
  
TG: i dont need this shit  
TG: i just hope that the next person you send down here notices the pit in time  
CG: IF YOU’RE HALF-COMPETENT AT MAKING MAPS, THEY WON’T NEED TO, THAT’S THE FUCKING POINT!  
CG: HAVE YOU EVEN BEEN LISTENING???  
TG: yeah i have  
TG: it sounds like youve been saying hey dave im going to be an asshole and then expect you to keep helping out for some reason  
TG: hello my name is karkat and i need remedial social skills training  
CG: I’M THE ONLY THING KEEPING THIS SHITTY CREW MOVING FORWARD, SO DON’T GIVE ME THAT, STRIDER. WHAT DO YOU WANT, A PURPLE STAR?  
CG: OOH SHINY PURPLE STAR FOR THE KNIGHT OF TIME, HOORAY!  
TG: karkat i think you are confusing yourself with momentum or the inevitable passage of time  
TG: the only thing youre running is this weird shitty plan of yours  
TG: which honestly im working on only because im bored and terezi seems into it  
  
“He’s confusing himself for Sollux,” Terezi interrupts. “Ask him if he’s developed psionics.”  
  
“You do it. I have better things to do than get yelled at.”  
  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] stopped pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] --  
  
“Guess I’ll stick it out a bit more,” you say, mostly to yourself. “As long as I don’t actually have to deal with him.” You turn to Terezi. “Is it just me or does being in charge of something turn his general douchiness up to eleven?”  
  
“Oh, I think it’s you.” She grins, all shark-like and shit. Fuck. That smile is never a good smile. “Karkat’s always like this when he’s stressed. And he’s always stressed,” she adds. “But there’s a little extra there that’s just for you.”  
  
“Well that’s a fucking pain. Maybe someone should find our dear leader a date or something. Wait, you didn’t mean-- oh fuck no!”  
  
She must have killed at least half a dozen sharks to make that smile. Won't someone think of the sharks?  
  
“Okay,” you say after a pause. “I’m going to go look at that wall while I figure out a way to scrub my brain with steel wool or some shit.”  
  
“I’m not Nepeta, but I think that you work well together,” she says, following after you without skipping a beat. “You’re naturals.”  
  
The wall glows steadily, out of several flat panels. As you get closer, you can see several features on them. Inset in one panel is a screen. Below the screen is a single blue button. Next to the screen is an eighteen-inch porthole, apparently covered by a rubber film. There is also a spigot, oddly normal-looking, like it should be found in a garden or over a washbasin.  
  
“That’s not helping with the brain bleaching,” you finally reply.  
  
“Can’t you trust my advice? Shouldn’t I have some interest in your well-being?”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re advising but if it’s trying to set me up on some fucking troll hateromance bullshit I don’t trust it.”  
  
“But you’re so good at it!”  
  
You stare at the panel for a few seconds before you slam your hand on the button in annoyance. Two images appear on the screen, side by side: what looks like a piece of paper, and a wheel.  
  
“Right, sorry,” you say. “I guess I must have missed the horns growing out of my head. Because I hadn’t realized that I was no longer part of a species that didn’t have to deal with weird hatelationships.”  
  
“And how do you feel about me?” Her tone sounds… off. When you turn to face her, you see that she’s frowning something terrible.  
  
“Huh?” What the hell is she going on about? “You’re fun and weird and hilarious. Not to mention hot and topped with your own brand of awesome. But I don’t really see what Karkat has to do with it.”  
  
You try to poke the icons on the screen. They don’t respond.  
  
“And?” Terezi purses her lips. “We need to be flexible, Dave. I don’t think you pity me. Not really. I don’t know. But if you could feel black for someone, then I guess you can feel pity. Perhaps that is part of the reason.”  
  
Shit. Where the fuck did that come from? You turn away from the screen to look at Terezi again Crap this could be serious. You put your gameface on and do your best to dredge up an ounce or two of sincerity. You know it’s going to burn half your street cred, but shit you do not want to lose Terezi over whatever bullshit this is. “Look Terezi, I love you. And I know that’s not quite the same as pity or whatever, but as I understand it, it’s pretty fucking close. If there’s something missing then sure we need to talk about it, but this shit with Karkat is just not going to happen. It’s not fucking fun for me, it’s just a pain. And the idea that he might be getting off on it just makes it about twenty times worse.”  
  
Terezi sighs. “Kanaya would probably have lectured me about ‘Setting Clear Expectations’ had she suspected my delinquency. I am quite sure that she and Rose have done so. But you and I just… did this. Whatever this is. I pity you. You… love me. Which makes me feel like a very deliciously red painting that you are fond of. But what does any of this mean? What do we expect?” She holds her hands open. “I’m going to wax black for someone Dave, and I don’t think you’d be okay with that, and... I think that I want you to have the same thing so you’d get it.”  
  
“Yeah, I don’t know how I’d deal with it if you went all snarly at someone. Maybe I’ll be fine, maybe I won’t. I just don’t know why we have to make everything so complicated though. I mean what we have seems to be working, right?”  
  
“But I don’t want to just ignore this and hope everything goes okay. That’s the kind of behavior that gets you executed on the stand.”  
  
“Really? Optimism is a fucking capital crime for trolls?”  
  
“No. But it’s a mistake. Like... Like eating inflating finbeasts without getting them properly prepared, and then it poisons you.”  
  
“You’ve got those-- Okay look. Yeah, problems are gonna happen. No way to ninja your way past all of them. And sure sometimes planning will help. But sometimes overthinking things creates its own problems. But look: this sounds important to you. If you want to hash it out we can do that. Just don’t get your hopes up about me spadesing up karkat any time soon. It’s just kinda weird and not really my kinda thing.”  
  
“Maybe… Maybe we should talk about this later.”  
  
It’s your turn to sigh. “Yeah, that might be for the best.”  
  
“So where to now, Coolkid?”  
  
The screen continues to show the wheel and the paper. There is also the spigot and the rubber-covered porthole.  
  
“I dunno. Any idea what this shit is?” You point at the screen.  
  
“No.”  
  
You poke the screen again. Nothing continues to happen. “Well, it’s not a fucking touchscreen, or if it is it’s gotta be the shittiest touchscreen ever built. Like the mail service that takes your letters to the computer and dumps them in a room, and then keeps them there for two months, and then delivers them to Abu Dhabi or some shit.”  
  
Terezi licks the screen, then thwacks near the button a few times with her cane. Helpful.  
  
“Paper, gear, paper, gear,” you continue. “Is this some shitty wordplay puzzle?”  
  
Another thwack, this one landing on the button. The image changes, now showing a pair of spectacles and a red toothbrush. Terezi licks the screen once again, then presses the button.  
  
The image changes a second time: what looks like a tooth, and a rope.  
  
“Okay, looks like that does something. Looks like we’ve found a critical piece of infrastructure here. Is it suggesting terrible ways to remove baby teeth or something?”  
  
Your turn to press the button. The screen displays a hat and a piece of steel rebar.  
  
Terezi presses the button twice. The screen quickly flicks from a piece of jerky and a pile of sand to a banana peel and a plastic bottle.  
  
Your girlfriend hits the screen pretty damn hard with her cane. The screen turns out to be pretty damn resilient.  
  
Taking a break from the mysterious machine, you remove the now-very-soggy map from your sylladex and try to determine whether or not it is salvageable. “Yeah, well, this is basically unreadable. Maybe get some waterproof paper next time, or maybe even somehow not fall into giant water deathtraps. At least we have some convenient disposal handy.”  
  
You toss the remains of the map into the porthole. It is covered with what looks like solid rubber, but at the touch of the paper it seems to get a putty-like texture, absorbing the paper and almost sucking it in.  
  
The machine makes an encouraging clicking noise. Terezi perks up in response.  
  
“Okay, that’s kinda freaky there. Looks like we found a haunted trash can here. I guess ghosts need paper too. Or shitty unreadable blurry maps.”  
  
The screen doesn’t change from its image of a banana peel and a plastic bottle. You poke at the covering with your finger. It feels like solid rubber.  
  
“So TZ what’s black and rubbery and permeable to paper?”  
  
“I’m not sure.”  
  
“Well this thing apparently. Unless it’s only permeable to shitty unreadable crap.”  
  
Terezi frowns at the haunted porthole, then decaptchalogues a hunk of squidmeat and tosses it at the porthole. It splats onto the rubber, then falls through with a wet slurp.  
  
“Not just paper,” she concludes.  
  
“Okay then. Apparently the ghost dudes also like calamari.”  
  
The machine makes another click, then a high-pitched ding, like a toaster makes when your toast is done.  
  
“Does that mean they liked it?” you wonder. Then, the faucet sprays a single spurt of some kind of smelly, black, oily liquid.  
  
“Or not. Gross. Did we just get slimed? I think we just got slimed. Don’t get mad as us, ghost dudes.”  
  
Terezi bends over to sniff and the liquid, twists her face, then straightens back up. She looks contemplative.  
  
“What is it?” you ask.  
  
“It smells like rotten fruit pressings,” she replies. There is a pause, and then Terezi continues. “Dave Strider, you owe me a new cane if this goes wrong.”  
  
Before you can ask what she’s going to do and why she might need a new cane, Terezi taps the porthole with her cane. The rubber seems malleable to the touch of the cane, and in fact sticks fast to the end.  
  
“Oh sure. Charge your expenses to the guy who in no way suggested that you start throwing valuable items into the black mystery orifice.”  
  
The machine continues to suck in the cane. Terezi snarls.  
  
“You want help pulling that shit out again?” you ask.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
You grab the cane and help to pull at it. The machine does not let go.  
  
“That’s pretty strong,” you admit. “On an unrelated note, hey ghost dudes you wanna join my tug of war team?”  
  
“Dave, you should try to squeeze through there.”  
  
“You want me to dive into the one-way mystery ghost hole over there?”  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“Ain’t no way I’m getting myself stuck in there. Besides I don’t think it likes me.”  
  
Terezi gives you a Look. A pretty serious one, considering that it’s coming from a blind girl.  
  
“Alright, fine, but if I don’t make it tell my turntables that I love them.” You let go of the cane and try to push your way into the opening.  
  
“I will make sure that they go to a good home,” Terezi quips.  
  
The opening feels like solid rubber. You punch it, and it feels like punching a tire.  
  
“It only accepts nonliving matter then,” Terezi says.  
  
You poke at the porthole’s juncture with the cane. It feels rubbery, but looks “liquid,” as if the rubber had melted around the cane and was letting it sink in, like molasses.  
  
“Yeah, I don’t think it wants me. I should probably be offended or something. Like, oh a dead squid is good enough for you but not me, huh?”  
  
“What does it know that I don’t?”  
  
“Dunno. Maybe it’s gonna sell it on ghost eBay. So what do you want to do about the cane situation? I mean if you wanna just tug at it until the meteor crumbles to dust that’s okay. But maybe we could just save some time and alchemize a new one.”  
  
“Remember, you owe me a new cane.”  
  
Terezi lets go, and the cane is sucked in like a noodle. The machine makes another click noise.  
  
“Well shit, that’s gonna put me in the poorhouse. Sitting on the street begging passersby for any spare grist. Holding up a shitty sign, ‘Need grist to pay off debt to crazy troll lady.”  
  
She laughs. “You’d be culled if we were at home.”  
  
“Right, panhandling laws, that shit is downright serious.”  
  
“Beggars are filthy, a public health nuisance.”  
  
“But what other options do I have?”  
  
“Contracted servitude. But you’re already in that deal with me aren’t you?” She grins.  
  
“I dunno, it’s not paying all that well. I mean other than the advice with the stock exchange, and all the sick siphoning off grist torrent.”  
  
“You don’t get paid,” Terezi explains. “I own your debt. You work it off. I eat your creditors if they’re a problem.”  
  
“Oh well, I guess that’s something then. Wouldn’t want to leave any creditors uneaten. So anything more to try with the mystery machine? Throw more stuff into it, get more shitty clipart, put up a warning, ‘Do not put canes in the gap maw’ sign?”  
  
“See if Karkat would fit through it.”  
  
“Oh, so now you think that it will find Karkat tastier than me. That’s cold, man.”  
  
“He’s more full of garbage than you,” Terezi says with a smile.  
  
“Pft. Yeah, I suppose it might just register him as a shout machine.” You retrieve a smuppet from your sylladex and feed it to the machine, which eats it up.  
  
“Good riddance.”  
  
The machine clicks, then makes another ding.  
  
“Well if we ever needed a trashcan that exchanges crap for sludge, I guess we found it.”  
  
A dark brown, opaque liquid starts pouring out of the faucet. There’s a lot more than last time, and  now it’s steaming.  
  
“What the--”  
  
As you stand there trying to figure out what the fuck is happening, you decide that now might be a good time to be someone with a better nose for mysteries.  
  
===> DAVE: Be Terezi  
  
“I don’t want to alarm you,” Dave begins, as liquid continues to pour out, “but I think that the floor is being flooded with hot brown ghost piss. Just what I always wanted, to drown in brown shit water.”  
  
It smells... different than the first one. Kind of earthy and bitter and sweet. You touch a finger to some and hold it close to your nose. It’s warm. Then you lick it.  
  
“So... what?” Dave asks. “It tastes like chocolate or potatoes or some shit?”  
  
“It’s very good. That is what it is.” You collect a handful and sip it. You are feeling very nice.  
  
The machine stops pouring out. There’s probably a gallon or two of it on the floor, judging by the smell.  
  
“I haven’t had something that good for a while,” you say.  
  
“I like how your first instinct upon encountering some new mystery slurry is to try ingesting it.”  
  
“I smelled it first.”  
  
“So what do we do, can the stuff and give everyone an alternative to grubsauce? Sell it by the teaspoon, extort our fellow passengers for mad boonbucks, build a mighty empire off our monopolization of tasty ghost ejecta.”  
  
“If we have a can. Or we could keep it for ourselves. You should try some!”  
  
“You really want me to lick processed smuppet goop off the floor? That’s probably mixed with whatever gunk was dripping out earlier?”  
  
You proffer what is cupped in your hands. “I still have some.”  
  
“Right, the five second rule. Of course. How could I have forgotten that key piece of food hygiene?”  
  
“Daaave,” you say. “You bring your hands near Dave’s mouth. “It’s really good.”  
  
“You really expect me to try that weird ghost machine shit?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Dave sighs. “I’m not getting out of this am I?”  
  
You only smile.  
  
“Aw hell, you know I can’t say no to that utterly horrifying smile. Might as well see what all the fuss is about.” He licks some off of your fingers. “That… What the hell? It’s coffee. Way better coffee than the shit the coffee machine turns out. How did we even find an alien coffee maker?”  
  
“Great fortune!” You return your attention to the machine. “How do we get it to make more?”  
  
“No clue. But this should give us a new way to wake up in the morning. Wake up, hike through miles of imp-infested hallways, fall down into a pit, activate the coffee machine, take coffee back through rows of imps, drink.”  
  
“It sounds fun.”  
  
“Yeah, just run your morning imp marathon and you too can have some not-fucking-awful coffee.”  
  
“Or a giant pipe, running all the way down here.” You gasp. “Get a container! Dave get something to hold this in. We’ll bring it back and figure out how to alchemize it, and we will have Not Fucking Awful Coffee every day.”  
  
“Right, of course. Let me just pull out this coffee pot that I carry with me at all times, just in case we happen to find high-quality coffee just lying around on the floor for no reason. Oh wait, never mind. Watch this magic.”  
  
“Excuse me? I’m blind, remember?”  
  
“Fine, sniff this magic,” he says, pulling out a Mr. T jar. “You smelling this shit?”  
  
“I am. I am smelling all of the magic. All of it.”  
  
“Well good, because I’ve got like a whole platoon of rabbits in this hat.” Dave pulls something out of his sylladex, a jar with some kind of human wiggler plush in it. With exaggerated gestures, he unscrews the jar, yanks the puppet out, tosses it in the porthole with a click, and dumps out the liquid before presenting the jar itself to you. “Behold one tight, and might I add, watertight container.”  
  
Dave holds out the jar triumphantly, then scoops up some of the coffee. “So, time to head back with our sweet loot and re-alchemize the sweet loot that we lost in the process of finding it?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
“Ready to blow this joint?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
The smuppetphone starts beeping.  
  
You wonder what that could be about.


	5. Faygo and Formaldehyde

_February 18th, Year 1 of Sweep 2_

You are Terezi Pyrope, and you are feeling pretty good after having Dave bottle up the newly found coffee supply. You are about to head out, when one of his devices starts beeping at him. Dave takes out the smuppetphone, and you lean over for a good sniff at it. 

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] started trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

CG: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS SEEING THIS?  
CG: IS THIS HAPPENING TO YOU?  
CG: FUCK WHAT-  
CG: OH MY GOD  
CG: OH MY GOD  
TG: yo chillax Karkat  
CG: IT FUCKING FLOODED  
CG: FUCKING  
CG: EVERYTHING FUCKING  
CG: WATER

“Hehehe. So that’s where the lake drained to,” Dave says. 

TG: look just because your room got flooded with squid infested waters no reason to get upset  
CG: MY ROOM?  
CG: ITS THE WHOLE FLOOR, NOOKWAD  
CG: WAIT. SQUID?  
CG: IS THIS YOUR FAULT?  
CG: HOW THE FUCK DO YOU FUCK UP THIS BAD???  
TG: hey on the bright side at least we got coffee that doesn’t suck  
CG: LOOK I DON’T CARE. I DON’T WANT ANY MORE BLOODSHED, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY GET BACK HERE. 

Well, that’s kind of disappointing. You were hoping that Karkat wouldn’t just give up on fighting with Dave like that. 

CG: I DON’T KNOW WHERE GAMZEE WENT, WE MIGHT HAVE AN ISSUE HERE.  
CG: KANAYA IS FLIPPING THE FUCK OUT.

“Maybe he drowned!” you suggest hopefully. 

TG: what you worried that clownface drowned in the tubes  
TG: or wherever the fuck he’s been hanging  
CG: HE DIDN’T DROWN, HE WAS RIDING THE WAVE LIKE SOME SORT OF… WAVE-RIDING CLOWN THING. USING A FUCKING PIECE OF WOOD AS A FOUR-WHEEL PLANK. ONLY ON WATER.  
CG: IT WAS FUCKING INSANE CAN YOU PLEASE GET BACK HERE?  
TG: oh rad  
TG: yeah chill  
TG: we were just heading back  
CG: GOOD.  
CG: GOD I CAN’T…  
CG: I’M TRYING TO CLEAN UP BUT THIS IS A SHITSTORM.

\-- carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

“Guess we better go see what the deal is,” Dave says. “Anyway grab on this flight train is about to leave the station. Destination: Up There. Then hopefully everywhere else. Assuming that we can remember where we’re going.” He stops, pensive. “Ahhh, TZ?” 

“I can smell our trail,” you assure him. “There has to be… a vent. I can smell it. Keep up with me Dave!” With that you take off after the scent trail.

Dave puts away the jar and rushes after you. 

“So we could climb up there,” you say, pointing up as you sniff around for a ventilation shaft. 

“Right, making me feel mad useful here with my flying skills. Shit, it’s not like I died for them or anything.”

You find a vent, take a moment to confirm that it seems good, and then pry the front off and squirm in. Dave follows after you. The vents are large and roomy at first, then narrow quickly, becoming too small to stand in. 

They go horizontally for a bit, then branch in several directions, including up. You were intending to smell your way back but the smell of everyone is in the vents, to more or less the same degree. With one exception. _Gamzee_. 

He’s been here. In these vents. 

Scratch your last set of plans, you’re going after the clown. 

You think that Dave is following, as quickly as he can, but you aren’t really paying attention. The vents twist and turn, get wider and narrower, with occasional exit vents leading to empty rooms and rooms with some very wet, sodden-looking monsters and equally wet, sodden machinery. 

You don’t care. 

“Yes let’s have a lake that drains over all the living spaces and important machinery,” Dave mutters. “Good for keeping everything nice and moist. Excellent design consideration.” 

You keep after Gamzee’s trail, hoping that you aren’t headed in the wrong direction. 

“Certified A+ planning right there,” Dave continues. 

The scent becomes stronger. It seems to be coming from an exit vent, opening straight down. The room below smells of Gamzee, stale Faygo, and formaldehyde. 

You open the vent and drop down, landing in a roll, then stand and dust yourself off. Dave follows shortly after, only occasionally making a sound like he’s bumped into the wall. He stops himself after exiting the vent and floats to the ground. 

The room has definitely been flooded. The only objects that haven’t been apparently washed away are the polka dot banners and posters of the Mirthful Messiahs on the walls, and those smell sodden. The room stinks, though most everything in it has been washed away. And, maybe mercifully, the walls are clean of whatever was once on them. Unmarked. 

You can smell what was on them before, but at least Dave can’t see it. You can smell what Gamzee was using for paint. 

You rip the sodden posters off the walls and tear them into little pieces. 

“Uh, TZ? Mind filling a guy in as to what’s going on here?” 

“Gamzee’s room.” 

“Right so we’re barging in to destroy all his shitty clown posters then?” 

You pause, half a poster in your hands. “I… I don’t know.” The fragments drift out of your hands. 

“Oh right, I’m sure that will make everything better. Sorry Gamzee, wasn’t planning on destroying your stuff. Just started wrecking shit for no particular reason.” 

“He’s not here.” 

“Fine then, I guess the world could always use more circus poster confetti.” 

You sniff to see if there’s anything else in the room. It still smells of stale Faygo, Gamzee, and formaldehyde. So much formaldehyde. And then there’s that undercurrent of… paint. But there’s not much else here anymore. 

You try your best to ignore it all and leave the room. The vents are the only exit. Unfortunately, they’re a little bit out of your reach. 

“Give me a boost, Dave.” You hold your arms up like Dave did once before when he pretended to be some fakey fake psionic flying alien from Earth literature. 

“Heh. Sure, find yourself in a pit and suddenly I become useful. Might have to find pits more often.” 

You wave your arms a little to emphasize. “I’m still not being boosted.” 

Dave finally helps you out, and crawl into the vents again. The passages get even narrower as you progress, and you have to crawl single file to get through. It doesn’t matter. You just want to Be Somewhere Else, Quickly. Whenever possible, you head _up_. 

“So where’s your nose leading you now? Any Froot Loops up ahead?” 

You hear a voice muttering quietly somewhere up ahead. 

“I mean you know me, I just love to follow you through dark passages with no clue where we’re going.” 

“~~~~ing ~~grace~~~ ~~that~~”

“Shut up,” you whisper. “Do you hear that?” 

“But just sometimes--” Dave stops. 

“~~ther~~ ~~hive,” it continues. “~~~fuc~~~ ~~~nt.”

“Yeah,” he finally says. 

You keep going. 

“~~~new~~~. ~~~~~~right ~~~ther. AIN’T THAT MOTHERFUCKING RIGHT?” 

You snarl and crawl faster at the sudden change in volume, trying to find the source of the voice as quickly as you can. 

“Woah wait up.” 

The vents are getting very narrow. 

“Yes little brother, you know the truth.” Gamzee’s voice echoes down the vent shaft. “YOU KNOW THE MOTHERFUCKING TRUTH. Disgraceful, flooding a brother’s hive like that.” 

Where is his voice coming from? Where is he?

“DISGRACEFUL TO BRINGING THESE SEAS OF FUCKING HERESY DOWN ON MY MOTHERFUCKING HEAD. But no matter. It’s all good. I’m cool with it. MOTHERFUCKING ICE COLD WITH IT. Don’t say that, brother. Not the right time.” 

His voice is definitely getting louder and clearer. There is a fork in the vents up ahead. Smells like Gamzee towards the right… 

You head right. 

“WHEN WILL IT BE THE RIGHT MOTHERFUCKING TIME?”

You hit a sharp  corner. Gamzee’s smell is strong. His voice is getting clearer. You keep going. 

He’s right around the corner, closer than you expected. In fact, you crawl right into him. It’s only by some miracle that you don’t get impaled on his horns. Wait, no, not a miracle. Anything but a miracle.

The clown blinks. “Hello insectisister.” 

Nobody bumps into you from behind. Apparently Dave had enough time to slow down. 

“Gamzee…” 

“WELCOME TO THE DARK CARNIVAL SISTER. Come to join us? HONK.” 

“I smelled the walls in your room,” you tell him. 

He has something with him, you realize. You can’t tell quite what it is. The stink of formaldehyde is obscuring it’s shape, texture, and color.

“What do you have?” 

“Smelled, sister? Smelled the words of the Mirthful Messiahs all over your thinkpan?” he asks, ignoring your question. “CARVED INTO YOUR MOTHERFUCKING SHITBLOOD THINKPAN, SISTER?” He grins. 

“I’ll carve words into yours, Gamzee. What do you have?” 

“What do I have? My motherfucking only friend. MY TRUE AND ONLY FRIEND.” 

“You’d have more if you hadn’t killed them.” 

“Motherfucking water took the others, rise out of the deep like real heresy hurting my feelings real bad,” he continues. 

You start to calm down a little, enough to take a deeper sniff. You smell formaldehyde. And below that, something like blood and chocolate. But mostly formaldehyde. 

“What are you holding?” 

You lunge forward, as much as you can in the narrow little air vent. Gamzee lowers and swings his head as if he’s trying to come at you with his horns. You get a sharp poke below your eye, and that’s probably for the best. The pain helps you to come to your senses a little bit. 

“LITTLE SISTER GETTING HER CURIOSITY ON IN THINGS SHE SHOULDN’T BE MOTHERFUCKING DEALING WITH. Little sister gonna be my next paint. Little insectisister gonna paint my walls.” 

You almost bare your teeth. 

Wait. 

You hear something, like a strife deck emptying. You smell a… You smell a _lance_. A lance would be a much more effective weapon in these close quarters than Dave’s sword, being as there is no room to swing, putting you two at a physical disadvantage. You quickly rethink your strategy.

“You don’t want your room messed with, right?” you say, trying to keep your voice amicable. “You’d like for your… art projects to be safe, like from these floods, and people who might accidentally fall into them, right?” 

“MOTHERFUCKING TRUTH.” 

“This is a large meteor. Why don’t we set up boundaries? How does that sound?” 

“Not sure what heresies you’re speaking, insectisister. Ain’t no boundaries in the Dark Carnival. Just the Ring.” 

“But there’s the ground floor, right? The arena. And then there’s the stand,” you continue. “Audience doesn’t leave the stand. But only the audience is on the stand. So we figure out in this meteor, where’s the arena and where’s the stand. How does that sound?” 

You make a mental note to put bombs in Gamzee’s room as soon as you can get some. 

“THIS BROTHER CAN’T HELP BUT GET HIS MOTHERFUCKING WONDER ON WHO THE AUDIENCE IS THAT HIS LITTLE SISTER IS REFERRING TO?”

“Are we the audience? We’ve been bad participants, otherwise. For which I apologize.” 

“Can’t help but get his amazement on with what heresy being is said right here. BECAUSE LET ME SCHOOL FEED YOU SOMETHING INSECTISISTER.”

“Yo dude,” Dave says, interrupting. “I realize that the whole creepy clown thing is kinda your schtick but could you maybe try saying things in a way that doesn’t sound utterly insane for a bit?” 

Gamzee, as you might have guessed, totally ignores him. “The audience has never been you, nor any shitblood or unsaved heretic.” 

“My mistake,” you say. “Should we just go then, and leave you be?” 

“NOT WHEN THE MAIN ACT IS ABOUT TO MOTHERFUCKING START.”

“Maybe we should get into less crowded quarters then.”

You kick Dave gently, hoping to send a “move back” sort of message. 

Gamzee growls, then tenses. He puts something round and heavy down on the floor of the vent. He has not been fighting, you realize, because his arms have been occupied. He picks something else up. It’s so hard to concentrate on the fainter smells with _his_ scent crawling up your olfactors.

“And what is planned for the Dark Carnival now?” you ask. 

“Nothing more. OR MOTHERFUCKING LESS. Than a motherfucking miracle.” 

“May I ask what kind?” 

“THE KIND WHERE A PEASANTBLOOD GOES TO MEET THE MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS, SENT BY THEIR CHOSEN ONE. The best kind. HONK.”

“Hm. There are peasantbloods in this vent,” you say. Privately, you have to admit that you are rather annoyed that Gamzee would refer to you as a peasantblood. “Would you like help finding the things that were washed out of your room by the flood? Everyone else lost things, and it sounds like you did too. I’m sure that I’ll be able to track down their scent.” 

Gamzee pauses. He seems to consider this. “Might be better to not get my attachment on…” He sounds… reluctant? 

“I don’t know. We bumped into you quite randomly. Pretty lucky. Almost seems to me, if I may, like a miracle. Maybe it’s a sign that you _should_ get some of that stuff back. After all, nobody else would be able to help like I can, and I found you so soon after the flood.” 

Gamzee grins toothily. “DON’T INSECTISISTER BE TALKING ABOUT THINGS SHE DON’T UNDERSTAND.”

“Please accept my apology,” you quickly offer. 

“My miracles are beyond this motherfucking world. BEYOND THIS WHOLE MOTHERFUCKING WORLD. Do you want to understand, insectisister?” 

“I think that I do. But in these matters I am only a wiggler. But I do my best.” 

“I’M TALKING ABOUT YOUR PURPOSE, SISTER.” He lunges forward with the lance, then stops, lance tip a centimeter over your chest. 

You wait patiently, trying to throw your mind back to days of getting schoolfed on obscure legal practices. There is nothing that you can do to make this better, but patience might work out. You need to stay calm. 

“My god, would you just cut the enigmatic crap? It’s really starting to get old,” Dave exclaims. You realize, what with the dim light and your rear end in the way, he probably doesn’t realize that Gamzee has you at lancepoint.

“...You give me something, sister,” Gamzee says, continuing to ignore Dave. “YOU GIVE ME SOME MOTHERFUCKING THING. And I’ll give it back. WHEN YOU COME BACK.”

“Would my glasses be good enough?” you ask. “I lost my cane in the flood.”

His head tilts up. Over your shoulder. Towards _Dave_ , you realize. 

“I’M THINKING YOUR MOTHERFUCKING HERETIC FRIEND. Your heretic god tier fucker friend.” 

No. _No._

No. You don’t have a choice. If you agree then you at least might have more options in the next fifteen seconds or five minutes. Denying him will only get you killed, and maybe Dave as well. It only takes a moment for you to realize what you have to do. “Sure,” you say. “But we have to back up. The vents are too tight.” 

“Wait, what are we agreeing to here?” Dave asks. 

“Shut up, Dave,” you reply. 

You slowly back up. Dave appears to be making room. 

“YOU THINK I’M A MOTHERFUCKING FOOL?”

“I’m backing up, like how I said we had to.” 

“Heh heh. GOD TIER HERETIC WILL BE TAKING OUT HIS SWORD. And putting it the fuck down.” 

“And that’s what we will give you?” you ask, hoping beyond hope. 

“HONK. No. THE THING YOU’LL BE GIVING ME IS YOUR FRIEND. The sword we’ll be leaving here in the motherfucking vent.”

“Okay. Dave, put your sword down, then let’s keep backing up. Got it?” 

“Okay, drop my sweetass time sword here and then back off?” There’s something about his emphasis there. Dave’s being very specific. You think that he wants to know if he can get away with dropping _just_ that sword and hoping that Gamzee doesn’t know about all the others he carries with him.

“Yes.” 

“Got it.” 

Gamzee edges forward, keeping you at lance-point. As you back up and he advances, the two of you pass a broken Caldersnatch. 

“HONK.” 

You continue going backwards, business as usual. Gamzee makes threatening motions with his lance whenever you come to a fork in the vents, and you have to direct Dave down one or the other; you realize very quickly that he is herding you back to his room. 

“Better be getting down in there, sister,” he says as soon as you reach it. “BETTER BE TELLING YOUR MOTHERFUCKING FRIEND TO GET DOWN THERE TOO.” 

“Okay, okay take it easy there clown man.” 

“It’s easy. It’s easy as a motherfucking pie.” 

“Hard to steer here without eyes in the back of my head, no need to bust a vein over it. Actually here I’d probably mean eyes on my ass but you get my drift, no?” 

Dave disappears behind you. You follow him, slipping down and landing in his arms. He looks at you in concern. Maybe he’s looking at the bruise swelling under your eye.

“Are you okay?” Dave asks. 

Before you can respond, Gamzee swings down into the room, still holding the lance in one hand. He levels it at you, but he isn’t looking at you. He’s looking at Dave, and smiling. 

He is… an absolute mess. 

“So you mind filling-” Dave looks at the lance. “Yo bud, you want to maybe point that thing somewhere else? Being all aggressive like that can get people mad nervous and then sometimes bad shit can go down and nobody wants that.” 

“SURE THING, BROTHER.” Gamzee points the lance at Dave. “No one wants bad shit, motherfucker.” 

Dave raises his hands slowly. 

“NOBODY WANTS ANY BAD FEELINGS HERE.” 

“Right, definitely not the least bit nervous over here.” 

“No reason for getting all nervous on me here brother. It’s all cool. ALL MOTHERFUCKING ICE COLD.” 

“Just resting on a beach here, getting some rays, drinking some shitty beer or something.” 

“Little insectisister, I’m getting my remember on,” Gamzee says. “GETTING THE REMEMBER ON ABOUT MY LITTLE SISTER OF JUSTICE. Remembering that she always has rope.” 

“Unfortunately,” you start, “I did not bring any. We were conducting an exploration mission. Shedding unnecessary space was necessary.” 

You hope that he believes you. Tying Dave up will restrict your options. 

“MOTHERFUCK. Well that gets my disappoint lobes all wiggly. THAT SOMETHING SO MOTHERFUCKING BASIC WAS LEFT BEHIND. HONK.”

“I apologize.” 

“It’s okay, it’s cool. I CAN MOTHERFUCKING MAKE DO.” 

“So what’s the plan then?” Dave asks. 

“The plan, my motherfucker, is that little sister. GOES TO GET MY FRIENDS. And then comes the motherfuck back all alone. AND BRINGS THEM WITH HER. So we can all get the Carnival started.” 

“I can do that.” 

“THAT JUST MAKES ME MOTHERFUCKING GLAD, SISTER. So motherfucking glad.”

“I’ll need help getting out of here, however.” 

Gamzee smiles at Dave, then points at you. “LITTLE SISTER NEEDS A NUB OR TWO.” 

“Right, one stepstool coming up if you’ll just let me over there.” 

Gamzee steps back, lance still trained on Dave, but makes room around the vent-exit. 

You lift your arms into the air. 

Dave makes his way over to you and gets into position to lift her. “So what’s the plan?” he whispers in your ear. 

“I don’t suppose you could go back in time…” 

“Don’t think I can pull it off fast enough but if you happen to run across any rad red dudes on your journey…” He starts lifting, slowly. You take hold of the edge and lift yourself into the vent. 

“Oh, little sister, before you go you should motherfucking know. YOU SHOULD GET YOUR MOTHERFUCKING KNOW ON. That the longer you take, the longer I have. TO GET MY MOTHERFUCKING PAINT ON. Honk.” 

You don’t turn back to face him. It’s too tight of a squeeze. It would be a bad idea to let him see your face right now anyway. “Why would I delay at all? We’re friends, aren’t we?” You try to keep a stammer out of your voice. You hope that you succeeded. 

“MOTHERFUCKING MIRTHFUL BRO SISTERS,” Gamzee assures you. 

You crawl on your way, his crazed laughter echoing through the vents behind you.


	6. Rally the Calvary

_February 18, Year 1 of Sweep 2_

 

You are Terezi Pyrope and you are in a hurry. You race through the vents, driven by a single purpose. Get backup, free Dave.

The vents continue on in their narrow path. You pass by more wet-smelling monsters and wet-smelling machines, but ignore them. They are not exactly high priority.

When you come to the commonsblock you find Karkat, pacing around the room, evidently trying to stay calm and even-more-evidently failing to do so. You exit the vent, landing in front of him and managing to do so mostly on your feet. Part of you is delighted to notice his startled jump.

“Karkat. We have a problem. Gamzee has Dave.”

“Oh my grubfuck-- Terezi, God, where have you been?” he starts, apparently oblivious to anything that you just said. A moment later it catches up to him. “Who has-- Fucking. Shit. Shit shit. NOT OKAY. OH GOD. OH MY GOD. IS DAVE STILL ALIVE? Wait, nevermind, stupid question.”

It had better be a stupid question. Dave’s God Tier, so unless he does something stupid then he should be fine in the long run. And Dave would never, ever do a thing like that, would he?

You wait until you’re sure that he’s calmed down enough to process your words. “We’re going to rescue him. Get everyone else. Make sure that Rose is sober.”

“I have no idea if she’s sober.”

“Well _get her_!”

“She’s locked herself up since the flood. Look,” he says, suddenly changing the topic, “no one’s cleaning this shit up!”

“What does that matter right now?”

“It’s very-- just, look! Smell, or--”

You put on your best Snarly-Scary Face.

He points. He’s pointing at a pile of stuff in the corner. A pile of stuff in the corner that smells like formaldehyde. “It’s turning into a fucking corpse party in this shit. I can’t handle this. Fuck. I-I’ll deal with Gamzee. I’ll do it. Just… Fuck. Shit.”

You investigate the smelly pile while continuing to talk to Karkat. “If you deal with him, then it needs to be permanently.” The pile consists of most of the dismembered bodies of Tavros, Sollux, Feferi, Vriska, Eridan, Equius, and Nepeta. You captchalogue the bodies for later disposal.

Karkat doesn’t acknowledge your order. “What was Strider’s condition when you left him?”

“Nothing had happened yet, but the clown said he was going to collect paint.”

“FUCK. Look, I-- It will take time to get Rose out. I should go now. Where is he now? Do you know?”

“Gamzee’s respiteblock,” you say, and then you leave to find Rose, leaving the confused mutant behind you.

 

-===> TEREZI: Be the confused troll.

 

“But where the fuck is--” You stop. She’s gone. “Shit. SHIT.”

You swallow, looking up at the vent that Terezi popped out of, and then climb into it.

About five minutes later you realize that you don’t know where the _fuck_ you’re going. You had been hoping-- assuming-- that the path would be reasonably straightforward.

You were so fucking wrong. You can’t even find your way back. You are completely lost.

 

-===> KARKAT: Be somebody with a sense of direction.

 

You are Terezi again, and the place where you are is Right In Front Of Rose’s Door. You know this because you can smell that this is so, and also because you are banging on it very hard.

“Rose! Get out here now! Your brother is being eaten alive!”

You are disappointed with what you hear. “Has the delugshe subsided yet? I have no intenshion of getting my--”

“Come with me to get Kanaya, and put your Seery powers to good use if you can.”

“What?”

As you go to retrieve Kanaya, you can hear Rose creak the door open behind you. She starts stumbling after you as well as a drunken Seer can, slipping now and then as she steps into a puddle.

“Terzezi! Wait!” Rose calls behind you. “Whash going on?”

“Gamzee has your brother.”

You repeat the door-banging process at Kanaya’s respiteblock. “Kanayaaa!”

“Wait. ‘Has’ in the sensh of posesses?”

“Yes.”

Kanaya opens her door.

“As in, ‘is holding captive’?” Rose continues. She seems to be struggling with basic word definitions, so you ignore her for now.

“Rose? Terezi? What is going on?”

“The clown is torturing Dave,” you inform Kanaya.

You set off back for the vent, letting them figure things out along the way.

 

-===> KANAYA: Figure things out along the way

 

Terezi removes the grating off from a nearby vent and slips in without answering your questions. Beside you, leaning on the wall for support, Rose, seems to not notice her disappearance. “As in the sense of Dave being held captive by a troll phshycotic and violent even by the standards of the shpecies?”

You didn’t catch all of what was said, but… you decide that you should follow after Terezi, if only to get clarification. You find Rose slumped by the vent entrance through which you can hear Terezi scampering away.

“Rose, we should probably go.”

“No, no, no,” she mutters. You think that it’s to herself, more than you

“I don’t think that Terezi will be waiting for us. We need to catch up.”

“This is my fault. I should’ve seen this.”

Rose remains unresponsive to anything outside of her personal muttering, so you take out a large spool of thread and put an end of it in Rose’s hands. “Hold on to this, okay?” You take the larger end and head after Terezi. She’s making quite a ruckus in the vents, and with some faltering you are able to locate her. Mostly because she’s stopped, having encountered Karkat. She’s lost herself in berating him.

“I didn’t tell you to run off like that,” you catch her saying, just as she finishes up. “Now follow me. I can still find the way.”

“To Gamzee’s respiteblock?” Karkat asks.

“Yes.”

“Fuck.” And then: “Kanaya’s here? Shit fuck. Look, let’s just-- Do we have a plan?”

Actions speak louder than words, so Terezi departs in what is presumably the right direction.

“IS THERE ANY PLAN IN THIS WHOLE CLUSTERFUCK???” Karkat screams.

“I throw these bodies in,” Terezi says, “Then you jump in, like you want.” She actually pauses for a moment, so that she can make sure that Karkat is following her. “You calm him down. Then we kill the clown.”

He follows, you think. His mouth opens and closes like a hard seed splitter. “What’s the point of the bodies?”

“Gamzee let me go in order to get them,” Terezi explains. “He had me at lancepoint in the vents.”

“Really fucking considerate of you to get them for him before you cull him.”

“It’s a good distraction.”

“God, what was he even doing with the bodies…” From Karkat’s tone, he doesn’t actually want to know, but Terezi answers anyway.

“Licking them. Playing with them. Putting his hands in them.”

“What the _fuck_.”

You race ahead towards Terezi, leaving Karkat to chew on that thought.

 

-===> TEREZI: Let Karkat figure his shit out.

 

You are now Karkat Vantas. You are feeling very conflicted. On the one hand, you definitely have some residual feelings for your ex, being as how Gamzee broke up with you and not the other way around. Even though you have a new moirail now, you’re… reluctant, to say the least, to participate in culling your ex. Even if he is insane, and murderous, and probably necrophiliac... the guy needs help. And unlike Terezi, you’re not convinced that the best form of help is a sword to the thorax.

You’re pretty feelings-confused.

If you had an internal monologue, and you sort of do, then it might be best expressed like this: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK.

After a few minutes and a few more internal rounds of FUCK FUCK FUCK, Terezi stops and ejects the bodies of your friends out through an open hole in the ventilation system. “Your turn, Karkat.”

“How long do I have?”

“Till I lose patience,” she says. “Now go!”

 You go. You fucking go. You go like gone, and drop into the room. Not at all as classily as Terezi or Kanaya might have managed, but you were sort of being pushed so you have that to excuse your lack of tumbling flair.

 You really don’t like what you see.


	7. High-Stakes Rap-Off

_February 18th, Year 1 of Sweep 2_

 

-===> Be Past Dave

 

You are now Past Dave. You stare at Terezi for a moment as she leaves. You sure as fuck hope that she knows what she’s doing. At least she’s safe though. Let the clown do his worst, as long as you don’t go off being a fucking hero, everything should be fine. No chance of that really, so you should be good. Gamzee’s voice startles you, as you turn your attention back to him.

He smiles at you, water-smudged clown paint covering his face and light glinting off the point of his crooked lance. “Welcome to my ring, motherfucker.” Suddenly, you are not so sure of yourself.

Shit. Think, Strider. Gotta keep him talking. Your words tend to flow right out in most situations like a fucking river, so you open the floodgates and let loose. “Looks like we’ll be stuck down here a while,” you say. “Know any good camp songs?” 

“HAH HAH. WE’LL BE SINGING BEUTATIOUS SONGS FOR THE MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS, MOTHERFUCKER. Singing the both of us, for me. AND ME.”

“Well, I guess I’m down for that. Though aren’t you trampling on your other buddy’s whole dualism schtick there? There can be only one-- well two in this case-- and all that?”

“What the motherfuck are you talking about? WITH YOUR HERETIC LIES AND YOUR HERETIC TONGUE?”

He advances on you, lance pointed forward. He’s walking slowly but steadily.

That last comment was maybe not a good idea. Shit. You knew there was a problem with having a big mouth. Just gotta smooth things over a bit.

“Hey, hey, easy there buddy. Just trying to make small talk and all.”

“All your talk is motherfucking small.” He keeps advancing. Shit.

“Ooh, harsh man. Not sure how I’m gonna deal with sick burns like that.”

“SICK BURNS, MOTHERFUCKER? Let’s swallow some fire. LET’S SWALLOW SOME MOTHERFUCKING FIRE.”

You are not fucking liking where this is going. A few more steps and he’ll be in position for whatever the fuck he’s planning. And he’s not going to be throwing a fucking birthday party like the happy rapping clown he- Oh shit! You might just have an idea there.

those metaphors they need some work, you begin  
ill gladly throw some burns your way  
the other trolls think youre a jerk  
but i think you just dont know to play

Gamzee’s eyes brighten at the sound of beat poetry. “Motherfucker that’s a deep tradition you’re stepping in. I DON’T KNOW IF YOU’RE AWARE IS ALL. Deeply in my blood and rage it’s a motherfucking sin. SO SHUT YOUR MOTHERFUCKING MOUTH, TURN, AND LOOK AT THE WALL.”

You try another one. You’re going for broke. Ain’t like you’ve got any better ideas.

there you are holed up in your cage  
sittin on the floor by yourself alone  
nothing to do but filling up on rage  
you never think of picking up the phone

“ You think I’m playing at this, like this is a wiggler’s game.  I’M GONNA TELL YOU HERETIC, YOU’VE GOT A LOT OF GALL. Slap-talking the messiahs is a motherfucking shame. SO I’MMA SCHOOLFEED YOU ABOUT THE DARK CARNIVAL.”

Wait. No. It was more like:

motherfucker that’s a deep tradition you’re stepping in  
DON’T KNOW IF YOU’RE AWARE IS ALL  
deeply in my blood and rage it’s a motherfucking sin  
SO SHUT YOUR MOTHERFUCKING MOUTH, TURN, AND LOOK AT THE WALL  


you think i’m playing at this, like this is a wiggler’s game  
I’M GONNA TELL YOU HERETIC, YOU’VE GOT A LOT OF GALL  
slap-talking the messiahs is a motherfucking shame  
SO I’MMA SCHOOLFEED YOU ABOUT THE DARK CARNIVAL

Ha! Got him. Now this is the battle you were born for. Just gotta keep him busy.

you got me shaking in my boots with that pretentious crap  
all your paints and posters and your talk of clowns  
but theres none can beat me in the school of rap  
do your fucking worst cause now youre going down

The clown shakes his head and shows teeth, but at least he’s stopped advancing.

no brother, words don’t count for zip  
I’M NOT JUST GONNA TALK AND NOT JUST GONNA RHYME  
though i’m happy to beat, i’m happier to rip  
YOU LIMB FROM FUCKING LIMB, MY BROTHER OF TIME

You can see he’s not exactly the subtle type. You quickly spin off another verse.

thems some brave words you bring  
you aint even learned to fly once  
i just stand here and sing  
you need your threats of violence

Gamzee leans forward, eyes glazed reddish-orange.

alien heretic, god you motherfucking be  
BUT I’M BOTH OF THE MIRTHFUL MESSIAHS, A SNIGGEREVIOUS SAINT  
and i think it’s time for the audience to see  
THE COLOR OF THIS HERETIC’S PAINT

However, despite the fact that he’s literally threatening to bleed you, he smiles and puts the lance away. Right, Dave, you can do this.

you see theres gold to my name  
you could use it to conjure  
but its not rightly the same  
as your delusions of grandeur

i think brother time don’t know how a carnival works  
GOLD IS SHIT, NOT EVEN SO GOOD AS TEAL  
so tell the clown not to smile, order him not to smirk

Gamzee takes a bow and arrow out of his joker deck.

BUT HE’S THE RINGMASTER NOW, SO MOTHERFUCKING KNEEL

Carefully, he aims the arrow.

Shit. Come on, one more verse. Head up. Don’t flinch. Keep him busy.

you think youre so sly  
with your bow and your rod  
but my beats are so fly  
im your turntech god

It works. Gamzee doesn’t fire, and you win yourself at least another few seconds.

you rap high words, brother, but your blood’s lower than low  
BLOOD HERETIC, GODLY SLAP-TALKER, I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT I THINK  
about your sick beats and ill-humored flow  
YOU DON’T FLY IN THIS CARNIVAL BROTHER, YOU ONLY SINK

Gamzee lets an arrow fly… at your pant leg. And the arrow pins the hem of your pants to the floor without piercing your ankle. It’s pretty damn good aiming, you have to admit. If you assume that’s what he was aiming at, anyway. Must be all the free time he’s had to practice. But that at least shows that he’s drawing this out on purpose. He’s playing with you.

we see how it is now that ive got the times  
and the beats so fly that you just cant resist em  
you sink so low when you cant beat my rhymes  
that we see now the violence inherent in the system

(help help youre being oppressed)

You’re starting to sweat, but you are still keeping it under control. Definitely. And there ain’t nobody who’s around to see otherwise. Nope.

the violence is inherent in everything we do  
SUBJUGGLATING AIN’T ANYTHING ELSE AT ITS HEART  
don’t matter whether you bleed rust or blue  
KILLING HERETICS IS A MOTHERFUCKING ART

He draws another arrow, aims it right at your chest. Shit.

Shit.

And that’s when a cascade of dead troll bits spills into the room.


	8. Big Motherfucking Heroes

_ February 18th, Year 1 of Sweep 2 _

 

You are Karkat Vantas again. And there is disgusting corpse-ooze on you. And under you. And OH GOD YOU FELL ON FEFERI’S BODY. 

No. No, stop, forget that. There are more important things to address. “Gamzee. Gamzee listen to me.” You step off of Feferi. “Fuck, Gamzee. Look at you. You’re a mess. Have you been eating anything?” You pause. “Other than Faygo, that doesn’t count.” 

“DON’T YOU BRING THAT SHIT, BROTHER. I GOT MY LARGER CALLING ON.”

Gamzee hasn’t lowered his arrow. Strider took the moment of confusion-- the torrential storm of falling, stinking troll corpses -- to draw Caledfwlch. Now he’s taking the opportunity, afforded by your distraction, to pull out the arrow pinning his pant leg to the wall. 

“You stupid clown, you can’t do this! Not even to Strider, okay? That’s not fucking okay!” 

“Careful, Karkat, don’t be stupid.” Strider actually sounds concerned.

You take a step forward. “Put the bow down. We don’t fucking need this.”

“The Dark Carnival needs me, brother.” 

“No, it doesn’t.”

“IT CARNIVAL NEEDS ALL THE MOTHERFUCKING PAINT IT CAN--”

Another step. You’re standing between him and Strider now. That’s good. Right? “Gamzee, just… fuck. SHOOSH.” You pap him, and instantly feel horrifically dirty. His eyes go wide, and his grip on the bow weakens slightly. “Just… Gamzee, you have to run. FUCKING RUN.” 

At that, Terezi launches herself out of the vent like a heat-seeking missile with teeth. She picks up the closest thing to a weapon in reach-- Tavros’  _ head _ \-- and shrieks ferally. Gamzee hisses. And then Dave closes in with his broken sword and Terezi goes for Gamzee’s belly. 

Oh god, it’s all going wrong, this all so wrong. You want to be someone else, anyone else, so long as they’re far away from here.

 

-===> KARKAT: Be someone far away from here.

 

You are Rose Lalonde and you are still huddled on the floor by the vent entrance where Kanaya left you, thread in your hands. Dave is in trouble and it is all your fault. If you hadn’t been so afraid of your visions. Trying to preserve a few more days of peace before you look ahead and reconfirm the grisly fate that awaits you. You don’t want to live with that certainty again. And now, your negligence is costing Dave… you don’t even know, because you can’t see it. Fuck. 

Fuck. You need to see it.

With no small amount of trepidation, you use your Seer powers for the first time since you determined that the meteor was off-course. And like lightning coming down through a polluted haze, you  _ know _ . You manage to find your feet and then, in disjointed, broken fashion, like you’re only observing yourself in a dream, you begin to act. 

You run to your room, every step surer than the last. There, you grab an empty bottle. Then you draw your thorns and blast a mirror to pieces, heedless of the collateral damage, and grab one of the shards. You cut a piece of cloth from your blanket and then, as an afterthought, grab a pen. 

Then you exit, as quickly as you arrived. You aren’t even fully sure what you’re doing. There’s a plan, and in some sense maybe it’s even  _ your _ plan, but you aren’t conscious of more than a couple of steps at a time. All you know for sure, is that this is the way forward, a bright path materializing in front of your feet.

Blasting your way through vents and walls, heedless of useless distractions like structural integrity and important infrastructure, you come across a machine with a screen, a button, a faucet, and a rubbery black porthole. You have no idea what it does but you know what you need to do to it. 

You dump the pen into the machine, and a single drop of clear liquid drips out as the screen changes and goes blank from whatever it was before. You ignore this, and dump the bedsheet and mirror shard into the opening. 

Just as the machine starts dumping out thick green slime, you shove the empty bottle under the nozzle. You let the bottle fill, and then dash off, once again blowing holes through anything between you and your destination, be they wall or monster. You just hope that the clusterfuck in Gamzee’s room plays out as expected.

 

-===> ROSE: Be someone involved in the clusterfuck.

 

Unfortunately, you are Karkat again, and you still don’t know what to do. In whatever fucked-up stories future generations someday tell of this event, all that the propagandauthors  will say about you is that, at this moment, you… kind of just stood there. 

Gamzee leaps back from Dave and Terezi’s swipes, teeth silently bared, then drops the bow and draws a pair of clubs. By the look of him he’s either grimacing or grinning. It isn’t clear which. He whirls and whacks the wall with both his clubs, and then jumps aside when Terezi tries to gouge his belly. 

Dave stands guard, hovering over Terezi. “Is there a plan or do we just rush him?” 

“Get his legs.” 

Dave takes a low swing, and then the wall flips. Just… whoosh, like a spinning door. Gamzee is gone. You’re facing a blank wall. 

“Dave, hit the wall like Gamzee did!”

“On it.” 

You look around the room. You note the arrow on the ground and the shred of godpants. And the utter lack of blood at all. 

“TEREZI! STRIDER!” 

Dave whips out his dumb beat poet sword and tries to hit the points that Gamzee did with his clubs. After a few moments of idiotic whacking, wall spins, and Terezi and Dave go through. 

Kanaya comes out of the vent. “What happened?” 

“They went through the wall,” you reply.

Kanaya frowns. She looks up at the vent, evidently thinking about Rose. Then she turns back to you. “I… Do you think that Rose will stay here if she follows the thread?” 

“I don’t know,” you groan. What are you going to do? You glance back at the pile of preserved bodies and swallow thickly. You need to stop this. You can’t let anyone else die. 

You only half-registered it with Gamzee, but you got a better glimpse when Dave did it, so you figure you know how to go through the wall. And, scythes in hand, you know what to do after you go through. If Kanaya even saw what you did, you aren’t sure. It isn’t until you pass through that you think about that, and if it’s possible to flip the wall from this side then you don’t know how. 

The wall leads to an even smaller, closet-sized space. There is only one thing in the room, a transportalizer. It brings you to one end of a large room. Rose is there, on the other end, with a wand in one hand and a bottle in the other, facing off against Gamzee, who is… juggling his clubs. 

Even Terezi and Dave have paused, apparently unsure of the best move to make. 

“You appear to have been terrorizing those that I hold dear,” Rose says, with an unexpected paucity of slurring. “It ends here.” 

“HONK.” 

She holds the bottle up, as if she’s displaying it to Gamzee, and then… 

“Catch, motherfucker.” Gamzee throws one of the clubs at Rose. She is already dodging by the time that it leaves his hand. She blasts the floor in front of him as if trying to force Gamzee back. “THAT SHIT ROTS YOUR THINKPAN. Don’t you try. DON’T YOU MOTHERFUCKING TRY, HERETIC BLOOD SHIT FUCKER.” 

He’s staring at the bottle. The green bottle. That… that’s not alcohol. It’s sopor.

You don’t have time to wonder where in Paradox Space she got it, as it’s only a second before Terezi and Dave spring into action, Terezi swinging for his belly with one of Tavros’ horns. Gamzee whirls with one club, his attention broken. 

“Just kill him, Rose!” Terezi shouts. 

Gamzee aims for Terezi’s stomach with one club, and reaches to catch Tavros’ horn with his free hand. Dave aims high, flying a bit over Terezi’s head. And you’re running, down the corridor, screaming at the loudest volume you can possibly manage.

“STOP IT STOP IT YOU FUCKERS! HE DIDN’T HURT DAVE! HE DIDN’T MOTHERFUCKING HURT DAVE!” 

Terezi dodges the hit, but Gamzee catches the horn. She tries to thrust it forward, to push Gamzee back. 

“YOU LITTLE SHITS, I DON’T NEED TO LOSE ANY MORE OF YOU ASSHOLES, OKAY???”

“Shut up, Karkat!”

“OUR POPULATION IS FUCKING SEVEN, WE--”

“You don’t get to make decisions anymore!” Terezi snarls back at you, still locked in combat with Gamzee. “Does it look like he’s playing games?” 

“Karkat! Catch!” Rose slides the bottle in what must be the worst attempt to slide anything to anybody ever. It bounces off the wall, spins, is knocked away by a flat-side collision with Dave’s sword, and continues to make its way over to you, finally rolling to a complete stop at your feet. 

Oh. Fuck. 

Gamzee is struggling with the horn, and Dave is swinging for his head. The sword is deflected by Gamzee’s club, held in his other hand. 

“LOOK TRY AND RESTRAIN HIM! HERE’S SOPOR! I HAVE MOTHERFUCKING SOPOR!” 

Dave lands and takes another swing. Terezi is still playing tug-of-war with Gamzee over Tavros’ head, and trying to bite his other arm. Gamzee suffers the bite, but takes the opportunity to rip Tavros’ horn right off and try to stab her with it. 

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.” 

And that’s the mess that you run straight into, brandishing the bottle of sopor as your only weapon. You have no plan anymore. Not even a little. You’re just desperate for something that doesn’t result in someone dying here. You tuck the bottle to your torso to protect it, lower your head-- more out of some ancient instinct than any strategy-- and charge directly into Gamzee. And Terezi too, admittedly. 

Kanaya must have arrived, because you can hear the whirr of her chainsaw behind you as you collide into Gamzee and Terezi and the three of you go tumbling into a figurative tangle buddy of struggling trolls. As you twist, trying to wrench your arm out from beneath Gamzee, you see Kanaya standing over the three of you, chainsaw in hand. 

_ Brum-brum-brum-brum-brum _ , says the chainsaw. 

“Everyone, stand aside,” says Kanaya, and she manages to sound more ominous than the chainsaw. 

“ _ rum-brrrr-BRRRRRRRR,  _ adds the chainsaw, as she revs it up. 

“HONK,” responds Gamzee, though the tone behind it is totally uninterpretable. It might not even be a response, actually. 

“FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK ALL OF YOU JUST STOP!” 

Dave puts his welsh sword down. Terezi stops snarling like a feral woofbeast. Even Gamzee has stopped for a moment. Admittedly, that may be more due to the threat of Kanaya’s heavy machinery than anything you could say. 

Wait. Something looks weird about Gamzee. Besides the usual. Shit. He’s missing half of his right horn.  _ He’s missing part of his horn _ . Shit. No wonder he’s looking dazed. 

“Hooonk,” he says, as if reading your mind. Or maybe you’re reading too much into it.

“Rose?” Kanaya says, voice cold and calm. “Could you come assist?” 

“What aid do you require? I am somewhat ill-equipped for restraining people. Or doing anything that does not lay devastation upon whole swathes of the surrounding area.” 

“Get Karkat off him. Or make sure that Dave doesn’t do anything foolish.” 

“Preventing that is, as always, a lost cause,” Rose says, “but might I suggest, brother, that you back off while others handle Gamzee?” 

Terezi manages to wiggle free, finally releasing your trapped arm. With shaking hands you twist the sopor bottle open. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Can someone hold him-- Ow! FUCK YOU TOO, GAMZEE!” you say, by way of thanking him for your newly-kicked shins. 

“Motherfucking shitbloods get the fuck off I’m going to kill all of you,” Gamzee hisses. “HO--NNNNKHHHHHHPTH,” he adds, as you pour the sopor into his HONKING mouth. He chokes, gags, and tries to spit the sopor out. 

” _ Karkat _ . I do not wish to harm you by mistake. Get off him.”

“FUCK YOU! SWALLOW IT.” You slap the clown, hard. “FUCKING SWALLOW IT OR YOU’RE GOING TO FUCKING DIE! I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS SHIT!”

“He’s going to die no matter what,” Terezi notes, as if stating the obvious.

You slap Gamzee again, then look at Terezi. She’s standing now, Dave beside her. “Shut up Terezi, don’t make me come over there!” 

Your actions, you are sort of horrified to admit, are so easily recognizable. It’s clearer than freshly-cleaned glass. You are, after all, playing this by the book. You’ve watched scenes like this echoed in dozens of Ashen romcoms. 

Well, maybe minus the sopor part. Drug addictions were not generally showcased in Empire-approved media.

“No,” Rose is saying, somewhere in the background. “Something terrible happens if we kill him.” 

“What could be that horrible?” Terezi asks. 

She looks away, “I don’t know. I didn’t have time to see any deeper than that.” 

It’s extreme, almost cliche, how this is playing out. Almost laughable. You probably would laugh, if you weren’t right the fuck in the middle of it. 

Gamzee chokes, snorts, gasps. You sit on his chest and grab his lips, sealing them. And,  _ finally _ , he starts to swallow. You grip him by his shirt and shake him. “STOP. KILLING. EVERYONE.” He doesn’t seem to be listening. His eyes dilate, looking somewhere over your left shoulder. 

“MOTHERFUUUuuuuuuuuuuuuuCk? Ow. My motherfucking head.” 

You stare at him. “Your  _ head?” _

His mouth goes slack, and he stops struggling. “Ungh. Ow. What’s goin on?”

Your shoulders relax by a half millimeter.  “You broke a fucking horn.” 

“Hurts like fuck, bro.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s tough grubs. You were fucking asking for it.” Despite your words, your voice is losing its edge. You let go of Gamzee’s shirt.

“What the fuck is the happen?” 

“I would apologize, but you were just holding me hostage not long ago and were trying to kill Terezi at the time,” Dave says. 

“You don’t want to know,” you tell Gamzee. 

“Are you sitting on me, bro?” 

“...Yes.” 

“Okay.” He blinks slowly, goes crosseyed, and his head drops to the ground with a thump. You realize that he hasn’t had sopor for a sweep and a half. You wonder what sort of effect it’s having on his system. 

Then, right there, he falls asleep. You let out a very, very long sigh.  You feel like you might faint from sheer relief. But it’s not over yet.

“Anyone have any cloth?” you ask. “I would really like one now. Cloth, anyone?” 

“Sorry, but I failed to plan sufficiently far ahead in order to anticipate this requirement,” Rose says. 

“You assholes are useless.” You try to put some venom in it, but all that you can find available is exhaustion. 

You look at Gamzee, note how filthy his clothes are, and decide against it. Instead you rip a bit of fabric off from the bottom of your shirt. You wad it up and press it against Gamzee’s broken, bleeding horn. You need to take a break and be someone else for a bit.

 

-===> KARKAT: Be someone else.

 

You are now Dave. Terezi has been holding your hand for the past couple of minutes. It kind of hurts. You guess that the two of you haven’t spent all that much time practicing handholding. It wasn’t something that you cared much about and… it doesn’t seem to be something that trolls know all that much about, come to think of it. 

“Dave?” she asks. 

“Yeah?”

“Could you get me a replacement cane right now?” 

“Sure. As soon as we get to an alchemizer. I don’t think even my slick beats are gonna be enough to get a stick out here. I suppose I’ll need to be your guide dog until I can get you one.” 

Terezi grins and holds out a hand. “Lead me not astray.” 

You take the proffered hand and grin. “Fear not, your rad knight will not fail you. Unless it gets too bright. Shit. I really need some new shades, the world isn’t supposed to be this fucking vibrant. It’s like somebody set off a bunch of flashblangs in a rainbow under a strobelight.”

Wordlessly, Terezi hands you her own pair, and you put them on. “Thanks. Much better. I guess we’d better head back to get new stuff before everyone notices that we’re deviating from our trademark styles.”

“So, just wondering for no particular reason,” you whisper as soon as the two of you are out of earshot, “not like I’m lost or anything, but do you have any idea where we actually are?” 

“No. But we might want to follow the holes blown into the walls.” 

You take a look at one of them. “Huh, no shit. Thanks sis, always the guiding light.” 

Badum tish.

The two of you head off. You’re glad you don’t have to deal with any more of this bullshit tonight.

 

-===> DAVE: Be someone still dealing with this bullshit.

 

You are now Kanaya. As things appear to be generally de-escalating at this point, you go to check on your matesprit.

Rose looks at you. She appears emotionally worn out. You put an arm around her and pull her closer. She grabs onto you and begins crying softly into your shoulder, and you put your other arm around her. 

“Do you want me to take you back to your room?” 

Rose holds you tighter. “You are too good to me,” she mutters. 

As you try to gently lead Rose away, Karkat interrupts you from his place on top of Gamzee. “...Rose?” You shush him, but he continues. “I just need to know where she got the sopor. Is there more?” 

“It can wait,” you tell him, and for once he is willing to shut his squawk gaper. 


	9. The Rule of Law

_ February 18th, Year 1 of Sweep 2 _

 

You are Dave Strider and glad that the whole ordeal is over. Terezi has walked into the common room, pulling you after her. She is twirling the brand new cane that she has just alchemized. 

She sits down in a huff--relieved or pissed off, you can’t tell, but probably a mix of both-- as soon as she reaches the common room couch. You sit there with Terezi and then put her shades back on her face. They’re a little wonky and askew there, but she doesn’t correct the positioning. Smiling, you slip your replacement iShades onto your nose. 

Terezi seems to be very focused about something else. And being Very Painful with the handholding. “Hey TZ, the hand holding’s nice and all,” you begin, “but, like, my hand isn’t a tube of toothpaste or anything. What I’m trying to say is that magic tooth cleaning juice isn’t going to pop out of it if you squeeze hard enough.” 

She lightens her hold. Just a little bit. 

“Not like I needed that hand ever again or anything,” you say. “I mean it was getting pretty rundown anyway. Probably time to go get a replacement. Maybe a nice metal one. What do you think?” 

Terezi pats your hand. “No,” she says, but distantly, as if only part of her is paying attention to you. “Too Spidertroll.” 

“Oh good point, gotta keep my own style. Can’t be caught impersonating others. Marble, maybe?”

“Better.” 

She isn’t smiling. Not even a little bit. 

“Gotta check out what they have at Wal-Mart these days.” 

She’s still just… patting your hand. You gotta admit, you sort of feel a bit like a cat here. 

“Dave?” She says, breaking the silence that’s beginning to settle between you. “Can I count on you?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course, what do you need?” 

“I need your support. No matter what happens.” She stops patting your hand.  Shit. What is this even about anyway? Time to go put on your serious face. I mean no. Shit. You are always ice cold serious. Time to maybe keep doing that.

“Look Terezi,” you reply, “you did try to kill John once, and if you go kill-happy or something, well… Well, I’m not sure. But… I trust you. If you say you’ve got a good reason for it, I’ll… I’ll back you up.” 

Karkat comes through a couple of minutes later, while you’re still mulling over what the two of you have said and trying to figure out some kind of added commentary to the thing that doesn’t betray the fact that you have utterly no idea what is going on. Gamzee is slung over his shoulder, as best as Karkat seems able to manage it. The clown is still out cold. There’s a bandage across the broken horn, and it isn’t bleeding freely anymore. 

“Put him down,” Terezi says. “I’m sure you don’t want to drop him.” 

Karkat stops and turns. He looks exhausted. “I will drop him. When I want to drop him.” He sounds exhausted too.

Terezi puts on a grim smile, like it’s just raring go and chop down a whole field of corn all by itself. Karkat stares at her, maybe wondering as much as you are what the hell is going on here, and she stands up and walks toward Karkat, cane in hand. 

Karkat tenses. “He’s not going to hurt you, or Dave, or anyone.” 

“I think we had a misunderstanding earlier. But we can…” Terezi shifts position slightly. “We can figure things out, right?”

Karkat stares. “Right. What did I misunderstand?”

“My instructions, for one. And the situation we are in.” She pauses for just a second, and then  _ swings _ . The cane catches Karkat in the face with a wet smack, and he drops Gamzee with a soft  _ wump _ . You jolt up, but you can’t bring yourself to actually interfere. This is just too surreal. Gamzee was one thing. You don’t have any idea what’s going on here, this is something else. What the fuck did you just agree to?

“Don’t. You. Dare. Do. That. Again.” Each word brings with it another swing of the cane, landing on Karkat’s head, on his stomach, on his sides, until it breaks on the last swing and she drops the half remaining in her hand. 

“You claim that the clown is safe,” she says, addressing Karkat’s kneeling, doubled-down form. “And that we’re safe from the clown. So these are the rules now: You are responsible for everything that he does.  _ Everything _ . And if he makes a wrong move, at Dave, or Rose, or Kanaya, or the Mayor, then you are going to answer for it. Both of you. Dave was almost hurt very badly today. That was because you let the clown live before. As of now, I am relieving you of whatever command you might have. Unless you want to contest that?” 

She gives him the thinnest of moments to respond before she turns away. In the silence, you can hear him gasping. She takes back her place beside you, putting her hand on yours and leaning in on you. “Thank you for your support Dave.” 

Support  _ what _ ? You’re not supporting anything. You’re just trying to figure out what’s going on, and there’s a damn bluescreen popping up every time you go over it in your head. You don’t know what to do. 

Karkat staggers, then stands up, swaying, bleeding bright candy red from his walloped nose. “And what… are you planning to do, with your command?” he says raggedly. 

“Prevent any more deaths. That’s more than you can say for your reign, isn’t it?” 

Ouch. That’s some sick burn there. 

“I should really get some backup canes,” she says, as if nothing really fucking extremely scary had just happened, and for the first time in a long while you are thinking about just how sharp those teeth of hers are and… Oh god. You’re not going insane. This isn’t a hallucination or a horrible misunderstanding of events, this is some, this is some  _ troll _ thing…

Karkat wipes the blood from his face, as best as he can. He picks up Gamzee, holding the larger troll more awkwardly than he had been doing before, and drags Gamzee away. Gamzee grunts a little, but doesn’t wake up. 

You are somewhat agitated by all of this. Well, more than somewhat agitated. You are not sure that there are any words for what you are right now. You might have to ask Rose, or maybe make up some new words. But hopefully you’re at least doing a good job of not showing it through your coolkid exterior. 

She can smell your fear, can’t she? Shit, that is a  _ thing _ , or at least she can taste it, but tasting and smelling are almost the same thing, aren’t they? For just a second, just a second, you’re worried about what she might do if she realizes that you’re not just scared of what’s happened, you’re scared of  _ her _ . 

“It’s going to be alright, Dave,” she says, and you calm down a bit. “I want to thank you again for supporting me.” 

“What? Suddenly clobbering Karkles over the head? No big deal.” Did you stutter? You don’t think you did. No. 

“I know it must have been very hard.” 

“This gonna be a regular thing? I mean, I just need to know if I should get some easy clean clothing. Y’know, can’t walk around with bloodstains.” As you talk you begin to relax, finding the ability to put this behind you and pretend that it isn’t a thing that actually happened. “Huge fashion nightmare and all.” Those bits of red on her shirt could be from  _ anything _ . Like catsup. Yeah. Just… don’t think about it right now. You can process this later, when you’re alone. 

Terezi looks genuinely surprised. “It’s customary to wear them for a time. Rose and Kanaya weren’t here, and the clown was asleep.” 

“Well, I guess that’s totally logical in a creepy disconcerting sort of way. Just remember that candy red blood is not the most unusual sight around these parts. Don’t want anyone thinking you were off beating up the Mayor. Might lead to trouble when the can police come looking for you, in their little tiny cop cars.” 

She laughs. “Police? I am the law.” 

No. You are  _ not _ dealing with this, this, whatever this is. “But how could you resist the little tiny cars with the flashing lights? And their itty bitty sirens?” 

“I don’t know! You will have to help me resist.” 

“You’d be in a blue raspberry daze before they even got within twenty feet of you.” 

She hugs you, grinning. “Oh Dave, will you save me from their blue raspberry daze?” 

“I don’t know, it might require some pretty drastic measures, like mousetraps.” 

“Tell me more.” 

“Or vacuum cleaners. Or even, gasp, clothes pins.” 

Terezi mumbles something against your shirt. She seems pretty content leaning against you right now, and by the way that she was mumbling she’ll probably be off to the dream bubbles pretty soon. She has had, um, an exciting day so far, you guess you can’t blame her for being tired. Which, uh, you’re totally fine with. You’re probably going to take a while longer to sleep though. You have… some stuff to sort through. 

Yeah. 

Fuck. 


End file.
